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"He shall drink neither wine nor strong drink." — Luke i. 15. 

"It is good neither to eat flesh, nor drink wine, nor anything 

whereby thy brother stimibleth, or is offended, or is 

made weak." — RoM. xiv. 21. 




Entered according to an Act of Congress, in the year 1851, 


In the Clerk's Office, of the District Court of the United States, 

for the District of Kentucky. 


HV 5^f 5 



Another book, kind reader, is before you. 
This, probably, will not surprise you, in 
this book-making age. The wise man of old 
said, ''Of making many books there is no 
end;" and verily, it may be applied to the 
present period. Thousands of productions, 
many of them of a vicious and immoral 
character, are scattered every year over our 
beloved country, and are readily devoured by 
the reading community. 

As a citizen of this great republic, we can 
but regard with interest every subject which 
directly concerns its success and prosperitv; 
whatever has a tendency to prevent the one, 
or destroy the other, should meet the decided 
opposition of every true patriot To elevate 


the characters and improve the lives of men 
in every department of society, is a work of 
patriotism and true philanthropy, which tiie 
moral and virtuous everywhere should be 
zealous to perform. 

In various benevolent associations, we find 
valuable auxiliaries, vv^liich aid in bringing 
about these desired ends, and producing 
results the most gratifying. Among the most 
prominent, the Order of the "Sons of Tem- 
perance," together with kindred temperance 
organizations, occupy an honorable and ele- 
vated position. To reclaim the inebriate,^ 
and diminish, in any degree, the stream of 
intemperance which has deluged our land, 
aye, the world, is certainly a noble work — 
one which calls loudly upon the gratitude of 
thousands and millions who have been the 
oeneficiaries thereof. 

The fiery stream of alcohol is now con- 
suming and destroying fathers, husbands, sons, 
brothers, by the thousand, yearly. To 'put 
out^ effectually, this destructive element, is 
"our aim," and to bring joy to many deserted 


homes our wish, by disseminating "the princi- 
ples of temperance, benevolence, and brotherly 

A sincere desire to advance the pure and 
elevated principles embodied in the great 
temperance reform movements of the age, as 
well as to supply what might be regarded a 
desideraium in the Hteraturo of the Order, 
throngnout the South and West, prompted us 
to engage in the enterprise of publishing the 
•'Lights of Temperance." How well we have 
succeeded in the undertaking, others must 
judge. The very able and distinguished 
contributors whose productions appear in the 
succeeding pages, have done their part well, 
and will doubtless meet the approbation of 
a liberal and generous public. 

We send our bark abroad, freighted with 
truth, and adorned with bright luminaries, to 
meet, on the one hand, the opposition of the 
army of liquor-venders and liquor-drinkers, 
who are quartered upon the country ; and, 
upon the other, to receive the aid and support 
of numerous friend:, clad in the shining arraoi 


of total ahstmence, and linked together by the 
golden chain of love, purity, and fidelity. 

\Ve trust that our humble effort to do good 
will not be in vain; but that many may 7-ise 
up from the degradation and w^retchedness of 
drunkenness, and call us their friend — having 
furnished the "Lio-hts," bv which thev were 
enabled to escape and live 


, Louisville, 4th of July, 1851. 




By Re/. C. B. Parsons, D.D . Lonisville, Ky. 


By Rev. A. B. Longstreet, D.D., LL.D., Oxford, Miss. 


By Hon. Edmund Dillahiuity, Columbia, Tennessee. 


By Rev. Leroy M. Lee, D.D., Richmond, Virg:inia. 


By Rev. William Winaiis, D.D., Woodville, Miss. 

By Rev. Thomas O. Summers, D.D., Charleston, S. C. 



By Daniel Drake, M.D., Cincinnati, O. 


WORK 193 

By Rev. J. H. Hey wood, A.M., Louisville, Ky. 


By Rev. John Miller, M.D., Maysville, Ky. 


By Rev. Joseph Cross, A.M., Nashville, Tenn. 





By Hon. Edmund Dillaliant}', Columbia, Tenn. 


By Rev. M. M. Heakle, D.D., Nashville, Tenn. 


FAITH 291 

By Rev. Philip P. Neely, D.D., Columbiig, Mississippi. 



By Rev. Lee Roy Woods, Jeffersonville, la. 


By Rev. Edward P. Humphrey, D.D., Louisville, Ky. 

By Rev. J. H. Linn, A.M., Louis\-ille, Ky. 


Bv Rev. A. R Erwin A.M., Clarksville. Tenn 




P. G. W. p. of Missouri, and late Representative to N. D- 
from Kentucky, 

There are few things more distinctly marked, and 

plainly visible, in the' order of the Divine economy, 

as exhibited in the government of the vrorld, than 

the laws of progression. Onward, and yet onward, 

side by side with the passage of Time itself, is the 

unwearied march of the moral, the intellectual, and 

the physical, of the world. Literature and science, 

the "Boaz" and the ".Tachin" of the great temple 

of knowledge, tremble and bend beneath the ponderous 

weight of their own discoveries ; while the physical 

of the universe, not a whit behind its fellows, exhibits 

the law and power of progression in every lineament 


of its demonstration. Prog^ressive science, in the 
present age, hath literally "run down" the work? 
of nature, until side by side they stand, presenting 
equal claim . to wonder and to admiration. The 
traveller, upon Niagara's cliff, as he gazes down 
the sweeping gorge, where Nature's mighty roar 
hath, for centuries, filled the world ^vith awe, though 
his giddy brain reel under the influence of the 
vision before him, pauses ere he gives voice to his 
astonishment. Why % Because, far above his head, 
air-hung, as it were, and fearful, he beholds a parallel 
wonder ; the iron arm of art is there, busy in spanning, 
enchaining, and binding together, the huge opening 
of the broad and fatal chasm, despite the angry 
terrors of the watery demon, which, as if jealous of 
the w^ork, leaps and thunders far below. He hesitates 
between the two, and knows not which most to 
admire. Here, nature and art, in conformity to the 
divine arrangement, have met together, to contest 
the prize of a world's admiration, and a v.-orld'& 

The same may be said of many other places and 
events, where these two great powers are upon the 
course together, and running neck and neck for the 
laurel of supremacy. 

The doctrine of progress finds its paternity in tlie 
works of creation itself, whose history presents a 
system of divine progression, which, (though God 
spake, and it was done,) recognizes six steps, or days 


of gradation, ere the final consummation of the work, 
when the hills were firmly planted, and the mountains 
Btood fast — when God sav/, and said, that every thing 
was good. 

What may be the ultimate design of an overruling 
and wise Providence, in these continuous manifestations 
of what seem to be his purpose and his will concerning 
man, in the present arrangement of things, we may 
not, with any degree of positive assurance, presume 
perfectly to understand. It is involved in the undis- 
covered future. Notwithstanding, it is easy to discover, 
from what has been, and what now is, that, in the 
very nature of things, the result must eventuate in 
the great advancement of human knowledge ; the 
vast increase of human power; and the consequent 
enlargement of human happiness. The empire ot 
mind, long shrouded in darkness, seems, just now, to 
be entering the dawn of its first bright and cloudless 
day. Man is awaking, at last, from his dream of 
centuries, in which long night of ignorance and 
superstition, visions only of knowledge and power 
flitted before him. Now, for the first time in all his 
^history, he is permitted to see the truth as it is, and 
to commence the study, to know himself. His joy, 
in this, is equal to his astonishment; and, filled with 
a new hope, the young immortal begins to thrust aside 
the curtains of his long obscurity, and to rejoice in 
the opening splendor of the prospect which spreads 
out before him. 


Already he looks forth from his dark embryo 
of years, and, feeling his inherent power to soar, 
plumes himself for his more elevated and upward 
flight, whence he may take a boundless view of 
the things which shall be hereafter. The spirit 
of progression seems to point the world from the 
present to the future, as abounding in the promise 
of prosperity, peace, and plenty, beyond aught that 
can now be known or conceived of. At the present 
moment, the world seems hastening on, with rapid 
and giant strides, toward its final destiny. What that 
destiny is, remains yet to be unfolded. But, if the past 
and the present be any criterion by which to judge 
of the future, then may it be safely calculated, that 
the next half century will develope improvements and 
discoveries sufficient to astonish and overpower even 
the spirit of credulity itself. 

A ft (reign writer, speaking upon this subject, asks 
us to suppose ourselves floating back, upon the stream 
of time, say sixty years, and to make that the stand- 
point whence to look upon the pi^esent. What would 
have been the credence of a vision then, which should 
have exhibited but half the truth, as it has since been 
revealed ? If the prophetic spirit had co>ne upon us, 
and we had narrated but a moiety of the iinprove- 
rnents and discoveries which human wisdom and 
human ingenuity have since wrought out and effected, 
who would " have believed our report?" If it had 
then been said that the time would come, when 


men would rise from the earth, and fly through tho 
air, as in the science of ballooning; or that metals 
would be found, which would float upon the surface 
of the water, and, at tlie same time, cause it to burn, 
as in the instance of Sodium and Potasium, it had 
been treated as the infinite of folly, and unworthy the 
credence of a sane mind. And, if it had been said, 
that ships would stem the most tempestuous seas and 
oceans, without sails or oars, and yet propel themselves 
through the waters, and against the strongest tides and 
currents, with the fleetness of the winds; and that 
carriages would run without horses, at the rate of more 
than six times the speed of those fleet animals, while, 
at the same time, they were laden with hundreds 
of tons burthen, the prophet had been pronounced 
either a madman or a fool. 

But, more than this. If he had still gime on, 
and asserted, that, within half a centuiy, men would 
travel hundreds of miles in a iew houi's, and cross 
the Atlantic in a few days; that bridges would hang 
by chains over the sea, while roads would be made 
under it, as in the case of the Menai Eiidtre and 
the Thames Ti,nnel ; that turnpikes would bo made 
of iron, and run thiovgh mountains, instead of m-cr 
them ; that men would travel with iron lio?ses, whoso 
boiling blond, and l)owels of lire, would eat \\\\ the 
f (rests, and drink dry the rivers; that people would 
spin and weave, knit and sew, without hands — 
calculate by wheels, and solve the most abstruse 


mathematical problems by machinery, (which last is 
claimed for the invention of Mr. Babbage ;) and if, 
in addition, it had been said, that men would study 
rucks, instead of books, and give the history of beings 
who lived and died long before the existence of the 
present race of mankind ; and, that" they would become 
acquainted with other earths, and other suns, and, 
above all, converse together from the separating 
distances of hundreds, and thousands of miles, as if 
face to face ; indeed, had a prophet proclaimed one 
half of what has since been verified, he would have 
becTi regarded as uttering the wild fancies and vagaries 
of a fatal delirium, and a fit candidate for the cells of 
bedlam. But such is the spirit of progression ; and 
thus the world is rolling on to its ultimate destination. 
Like a huge bowldei-, torn by the earthquake from its 
mountain bed, it rushes down the steep and impetuous 
declivities of time, gatheiing new force and velocity 
at every bound. The voice of propriety, as well as 
safety, would seem to adopt tl e cry of the " Tocsin," 
and say, " Get ye from under the crumbling hills while 
the car of reform is rushing past. Linger not in the 
sloughs and mires of ignorance and fi»lly, but travel 
with the age, lest ye be overtaken by the dark swell 
of oblivion, which rolls fearfully on, and which will 
Boim overwhelm and enshroud the past. 

Urged on by the ever restless spirit of progression, 
the march of intellect and the advancement of science 
are both mai*vellou8 and sublime. Nor is there the 

Lrcnr.s of t; mpkran'ce. 15 

slightest pause in the exercise of the propulsive 
energy. In the list of discoveries, each follows the 
other in such rapid succession, that the fatigued 
mind has hardly time to take breath, from toiling 
up the sublime ascent of one elevation, ere it is 
whirled away to look upon another, if possible, 
more grand and more majestic. Where, and iu 
what is it to terminate ? This is a problem worthy 
the solution of the curious and tlie v/ise. The 
great and surprising velocity v,'hich, as a motive 
power, attaches now t ) almost every department 
of human life, and which urges onwai'd still, in the 
affairs of the world, with greater and yet greater 
«peed, may well wake up the inquiry in the mind 
of the observant traveller. What is to be the end 
of all these things 1 Ax'e the concerns of time about 
-to wind to a close, and are these demonstrations to be 
regarded as the voice of warning? Or is it the blest 
harbinger of nobler days to come ? Has the spirit 
of progression mounted the box, and taken the reins 
;from the hands of the lazy old coachman of olher 
years, Jehu like, to drive the last half mile oi^ the route 'i 
Or has the moral, the phy&ical, and the intellectual 
powers of the universe joined issue, to arouse the old 
phaeton of the mind to harness anew for the immortal 
race 1 Whatever may be the inspiring cause, the whole 
world is evidently rushing on to some result unknown, 
and with a rapidity which bailies even the speed of 
thoutrht itself fairlv to conceive of. 


In the field of physics science has been engaged, 
from time immemorial, in incessant toil and labor, for 
the attainment of one object — speed ; the accomplish- 
n^ent of superior speed, in national, commercial, and 
s'ommunitive interchange. This object seemed to have 
been reached by the genius of Fulton, and, for a time, 
fame, by popular consent, awarded to him the crowning 
laurel of the achievement. The introduction (jf siean:i- 
povver upon our lakes and rivers, and which has since 
spread out upon the broad oceans and seas of every 
clime, forms an era in the commercial history of the 
world, which must ever be regarded as an epoch 
of great interest. It was the commencement of a 
new period, the opening up of a new system, tor 
commercial entei-prise and increasing wealth. 

This was considered, at the time, as the very apex 
of the pyramid of scientific glory ; the ne plus vJlra 
of scientific discovery. The spirit of progression had 
then performed its latest and most astounding task. 
And Ko it was, incomparably majestic, useful, and 
sublime, beyond any thing which had preceded it. 
The learned and the wise of the present time may 
wonder at the incredulous astonishment of iheir less 
favored ancestors, when they beheld the first steamer 
start off, and accomplish the then almf)st incredible 
speed of four miles an hour, against the forces of the 
tide ; and they may smile to hear their sage predictions^ 
that it could never be surpassed. But, as in some 
other instances, it was to be looked upon as one o£ 


those mighty strides of the spirit of progression, which 
before-time were few and far between, but which since 
have gloiiously encompassed the whole earth. It was 
the opening of the outer door of that sublime temple, 
whose inner mysteries, though to some extent brought 
to light, are yet more fully to be explored and 

Wiih all his achievements, the giant of discovery 
is but an infant still; and though he has traversed 
the seas, and belted the earth, he has not yet 
attained to a moiety of his destined growth. What 
will be the final dimensions of his stature and his 
power, it would task tfie imagination now to conceive. 
To give embodiment to a principle in this regard, how 
must the genius of the boiler have smiled at the 
popular enthusiasm of this city,* when, some years 
ago, a public dinner was tendered by its citizens to 
the Captain of the old steam boat Washington, in 
compliment fjr his having made the passage from 
New Oileans to Louisville, in the astonishing short 
lime of twenty-one. days. This achievement was then 
thought to be the very " chef d'aeuvre " of steam 
enteipriso, and one that could never be transcended. 
And when, in response to a toast, whic-h proposed the 
health of the old hero of the Mississippi, he uttered 
';he then startling prediction, that it w^as not unlikely, 
that some of that very company would live to see the 

* Louisville, Kentucky 


same dis>;ance accomplished in twelve days, blank 
incredulity sat upon every countenance, while one is 
said to have remarked, *' This triumph over time and 
space, by the Washington, has turned the old man's 
brain." "What would that incredulous man have 
thought, could he have looked upon the achievements 
of the present time 1 It was a triumph in that day, 
indeed, to make a trip from New Orleans to Louisville 
in twenty-one days, which, compared with the six 
months' voyages of the keel of previous date, seemed 
an annihilation of both time and space. How changed 
the scene from those times to ours. Now it takes but 
little more to go from New York to Jerusalem, while 
far less of leave taking and preparation is required 
upon making the journey. Such is the force of 
progression; and still it sweeps on to greater achieve- 

The genius of the principle is at work in the 
present day, and in right good earnest. He has seized 
upon the untameable spirits of water and of iire, 
and, in iron harness bound, has yoked them to his 
triumphant car, where, leaping upon his seat of power, 
he laughs, as he throws the free reins upon his coursers' 
tiecks, and bids them outstrip the winds. And now his 
track is onward. He accompanies the careering 
gtorm ; roams at large with the tempest; and travels 
with the lightning's speed. He looks incredulity in the 
face, and mocks at human obstacles; while, witJi 
indomitable zeal and purpose, he searches into the 


laboratories of nature, and studies there the art of 
power. There seems no pause ; there is no stay ; and 
should science lag, or intellect gi'ovv dull, the voice 
of the master spirit is heard, like the mysterious 
command of the fated wanderer, crying, Onward! 
onward ! onward ! 

It was in obedience to this principle, and under the 
dictation of its power, that Copernicus, in a past 
century, reined up the coursers of the morning, and, 
armed with science, like Joshua of old, commanded 
the sun and moon to stand still, and the earth to 
exhibit her rotatory motion. His theory was rejected 
in that day, as impossible to belief, and altogether 
incredible ; and was pronounced by many wise and 
learned, as the chimera of a disordered brain. And 
novel as it may be, some remain of the same 
scepticism still. It seems almost incredible, and yet 
it is true, there are living in this country, this day, 
those who believe that the earth is flat, and if they 
should travel far enough, they would be sure to come 
to the "jumping off place." We do not make this 
statement to disparage the learning and general 
intelligence of our country, which we look upon as 
equal to any in the commonwealth, but simply to 
state a fact within our own personal knowledge. 
With such, of course, science is a profitless mystery 
and human progress a useless fable. But ignorance 
is the foil which makes the jewel of knowledge 
sparkle the brighter. 


The great Newton played at bubbles, and won 
the prize of g?-avitation ; while our own Franklin, 
with his pnper kite, frolicked amid the lightnings, 
and, with the trumpet of science, commanded the 
thunderer down from his cloudy throne, to lay 
his crown and sceptre harmless at the philosopher's 
feet. But greater than these, in the lists of pro- 
gression, stands the achievement of the German. 
Fausf, improving upon the invention of John Guttera- 
ourg, from his obscure retreat, with his wooden 
cubes, rudely carved, set in motion that art of 
arts, the press, which first astonished, then conquered, 
and now rules the world. Demonstrating the truth 
of the French cardinal, and connecting with the 
sentiment a motive power, by which it is propelled 
throughout the civilized earth, that 

"With the man that's tnily great. 
The pen is mightier than the sword." 

The wonderful success which attended the dis- 
Coveiies of Guttemburg and Faust, brought down 
upon the latter the accusations of the ignorant and 
superstitious, that he was connected with the evil 
spirit. Hence, the common saying, which has come 
down to our present time, and which, in nursery 
parlance, asci'ibes woiks of darkness to the " Devil 
and Doctor Foster." Such was the origin of that 
superstition, which frightens children now both young 
and old. 


These were the distinguished discoverers of mighty 
principles, which the present utilitarian age has reduced 
to practice and to profit. Pi-ogression has fixed its 
broad seal upon them, and impressed their force? 
and their uses into the common cause of universa. 
advancement. Illuminated in the spirit of mind, by 
the dis^coveries of a Copernicus, a Newton, and a 
Franklin; and attracted to each other, and bound 
together, by the inventions of a Faust and his 
co-adjutors, the great family of mankind are so 
thrown into immediate association and fraternity, as 
to produce the most happy results; such, hideed, as 
ha-ve not been, before the present age, suice the 
building of Babel, when the impiety of man provoked 
the vengeance of God, and the confusion of tongues 
drove the human family, in dispersion, to scatter 
over the face of the earth. 

To use the words of a distinguished prince ana 
statesman, in reference to these men and their works, 
we niay remark, "it was the beghming of the 
end." They placed the torch to the pile — they kindled 
the blaze; but it was reserved for our own immediate 
time, so to fan the flame, as to demonstrate, to rhe 
astonishment of all, the full glory of the confla- 

The nineteenth century seems to have been chosen 
in the order of things, as the peiiod when the powers 
of progression should be exhibited more fully than in 
any previous day, when the very "age and body 


of the time," should wear its form and pressure. 
And such has been the wonder-working power of 
this spirit, that we see now. without astonishment, the 
imprisoned sunbeam assume the matcliless pencil of the 
limner, and behold the lightning bearer, obedient to 
human mandate, leap upon his wiry railway, and speed 
a courier and a news-boy round the earth. As upon 
the pathway of the magnet, city embraces city, and 
nation greets nation, domonstrating the object and 
the end of the great federal compact of universal 
nature, progression smiles and approves, for it is 
the manifestation of the divine law of fraternity, 
encircling and binding together the great brotherhood 
of man. Beholding these things, and looking forward 
to their probable results, the spirit of divination would 
be likely to say, ** It is — it must be the foreshadowing 
of that blessed time, so long the subject of hope's 
promise, ' wl:en the knowledge of the Lord shall cover 
the whole earth, as the waters cover the sea.' " The 
spirit of progression^ by influence, seems to reply, in 
the words of the poet, " Consummation devoutly to 
be wished." 

The same power has assumed empire in the 
kingdom of politics, and the dynasties of religion, 
where the watch-word is still improvement, reform, 
progression. But of these we will not now speak — 
only remarking, that, under its influence, the equal 
rights of man, as conferred upon him by his God, 
are recognized and sustained ; while tyranny, of every 


species, passes under condemnation, and totters to 
the fall. 

Unshackled freedom — political, social, and religious, 
takes to itself its own inherent rights, and, spurning 
from its presence the kings and queens of earth, 
prepares, in its own strength, triumphantly to mount 
the throne of the nineteenth century. Pure and 
bright as the untarnished sunbeam, and immortal 
and immaculate as its own heavenly origin, it 
ascends the seat of power. There may it live and 
reign, and sway the empire of the universe, till the 
world shall end, and time's last note be heard, 
sounding upon the trumpet of eternal doom. 

But all these wonders which have been revealed in 
the pathway of science, and which have stamped this 
present time as the intellectual age of the world, are 
thrown into an eclipse, so far as their practical good is 
concerned, when, compared with the excellence of that 
gi'and moral invention, the principles of whose action 
were discovered, and whose machinery was drafted 
and set in motion, by Hawkins and his compatriots, 
in 1841. 

The sublime pillar of science had been erected 
by those great ones of wisdom and of truth, until 
its majestic height overlooked the whole world; but 
the crowning figure which should adorn its summit 
and declare its character, was yet wanting. "While 
the physical, the moral, and the intellectual disputed for 
the honor of the place, the snirit of progression seized 


upon the image of temperance, and bearing it swiftly 
aloft, placed it triumphantly upon the top of the stately 
pile. The three kindred geniuses, in whose strength 
of union the massy column had been reared, were at 
first disposed to reject it, as most unworthy to be the 
crowning figure ; but when they beheld the fires of 
honesty and of honor heaving within its bosom, and 
the sunlight of reform beaming upon its brow, they 
bowed down before its lofty virtues, and confessed the 
propriety of the appointment: and, with one accord, 
they acknowledged that TEMPERANCE, while 
it most aptly represented the excellencies of all the rest, 
was, in itself, the crowning grace of human life. 

This glorious link in the chain of progression, 
demonstrated, to the sceptical world, the complete 
solution, of that hitherto impossible and unsolved 
problem, that the inebriate was susceptible of reform, 
and that the drunkard could be reclaimed. 

The moral doctors, many of whom had faithfully 
labored for the extirpation of the evil of intemperance, 
previous to that period, had deemed the malady an 
incurable one; especially, where it had taken a deep 
root, and assumed a stubborn, form. Hence, their 
practice was, not to attempt the cure of the already 
infected — they were given over as lost ; but, by the 
introduction of the vaccine of self-denial into the 
systems of the youthful and uncontaminated, to 
prevent the spread of the virus. In this manner 
they promised unto themselves, ultimately, to root 


out the disease. And, strange as it may appear 
there are some in the present day, who, amidst all 
the blazonry of hght by which they ai'e sui rounded, 
obstinately cling to this old m;izy and impeH'ect 
system. But whether they are impelled to this by 
the witching sin of" the social glass aud secret tipple, 
which the system allows them, while they preach 
sobriety to others, we are not the judge, nor is it our 
province to determine. This plan, however imperfect 
and abcsurd in this day, was not wiihout its btiuefiis, so 
far as it ol)tained, in the day of its inception, and 
resulted m good to many. Long, very long, will the 
gratitude of thousands, peihap.s, who were early 
prevented from imitating their father's vices, and so 
become lost, be felt for a Warren, a Grant, a Beecher, 
and others, the fathers of the system. 

It was the silvery gray of the approaching morning 
- — the hrst line of precursory light which heialded the 
coming day ; the twi-light of that morning which was 
soou to break forth, and upon which many of these 
venerable men were to live and look, Iheir names 
are now enrolled in the lists of the order, and they 
rejoice in the effulgent brightness of its full-orbed 

The next step of progression in the temperance 
reform, was across the wave ; among that noble and 
oppressed people, whose name is a synonym for 
generous feeling and warm heartedness, and whose 
Borrows and sufferings, from the hand of tyrant power» 


now vibrate the richest sympathy in the heart of this 
nation. But the foot-prints of progression are there, 
imbetkled upon the shores of the Green Isle; and 
though they be traced in blood, they shall yet conduct 
to blessing. Though a liundred Mitchels, uud as 
many O'Donohues perish in the hulks of Bermuda, 
or die upon the scaffold's plank ; while the glow of 
the Emerald emits a spark of lile, the cause is not 
lost. Their patriot spirits will range the fair fields 
of their native land, and their lives cry in bloody 
martyrdom from the altars of liberty, until the great 
gathering of the clans shall answer the call — revive 
again the scenes of Clontai-f, and foreign despotism 
be driven for ever from the soil. 

Caesar's armed spirit, when upon the fields of Sardis 
and Phillippi, which startled the guilty fears of a 
Brutus, and then, ranging hot through the battle, cried 
" Havoc, and let slip the dogs of war," was not more 
potent in deciding the fate of Rume, than will be the 
names and lives of those heroos of Erin, who have 
nobly perished for their country's cause. The story is 
not yet fully told. The spirit of progression is steadily 
unfolding the roll of destiny; and although it be 
written there in characters of blood, it is to be read 
of all, that, with France and the German, Irelan 1 
also is ultimately destined to be free. 

The first step towards this glorious result, as well 
as the first step towards the emancipation of the 
human family in that land, from the bondage of moral 


thraldom, was the great temperance reformation, in 
which Theobald Mathew first taught the enslaved 
masses that they could be independent of one tyianf, 
at least, and so opened up the way for their rejection 
of every other. 

Tlieobald Mathew, the king of cold water, and the 
apostle of temperance — a name and a fame which 
shall live in the archives of the just, when political 
Kings and Queens, have fled from their abdicated 
dominions, and thrones and dynasties have sunk in 
eternal ruins. Tramp ! tramp ! tramp ! to the moral 
man, whispers the voice of invisible impulse, whose 
propulsive energies aroused to action, and armed 
by the spirit of progression, already point to the 
final issue, and foreshadow the ultimate moral and 
intellectual triumph of man. " Wait a little longer," 
says the song, for " there's a good time coming." 
This is most certainly true, at least, so far as regards 
the onward march of temperance and reform. Such 
is the influence of the principle contained in this pro 
gressive movement, that, even now, in the eighth year 
only of its existence, by popular consent, the distiller 
and his distillery are set down in the same cate- 
gory of public nuisance; while sovereign contempt 
rests upon the mean and stealthy bloat, who is willing 
to barter his character and his honor to become a 
vender of the foul poison. 

It is in the nature of things, that the man who 
is mean and guilty enough to piay the pander tc 


an insane and diseased appetite, by dealing out 
poisoned potations which destroy and kill, should be 
considered as an accessory to murder, and should be 
looked upon by community as standing in the same 
rank with the assassin and the thief. And such is 
the opprobrium which attaches to the dram-seller, 
at least in the estimation of all good and honest 

A new axiom in the system of moral ethics has 
been thus traced, by the spirit of progression, upon 
the tables of public sentiment, which is, that no dram 
drinker, or dram vender, is entitled to be considered 
a gentleman. 

If the second link in the order of progression 
stretched across the flood, and embraced the old world, 
the third returns again to the Western hemisphere, 
and exhibits itself in the land of the free ; in the 
land of him, whose name is recorded upon the noblest 
shrine in the temple of fame, as it was the highesS 
upon the Virginian arch. 

There was a moral fitness in this providential 
arrangement of the spirit of progression; for, what 
name so proper, to lead on the hosts to the achieve- 
ment of their moral freedom, as the name of 
"Washington! And what land so fitting for the event, 
as the land of Washington! In America was the 
true place for moral freedom to find a home, in the 
kindly embraces of the political and social institutions 
«£ the land. In America the imion was cemented. 


and Washingtonianism was born upon that liberal 
and free soil, where no tyrant tread ere blasts the 
ground, or tyrant breath pollutes the air. 

The rapid spread of the principle was like itself! 
Thfc! flame once lighted, its blaze illumined the land. 
Like the fires of the prairies, it swept on, resistless 
in its course, bearing down all before it, and purifying 
the moral atmosphere as it went, from the foulest 
malaria that ever escaped from the cells of disease 
and death, to afflict and destroy mankind. The day 
of moral redemption had arrived, and the American 
people were now to be saved even as by fire. 

The time had come, when that nation, who, from 
their dissipated habits, had earned for themselves the 
opprobrium of the English Tourist, and received the 
galling appellation of a nation of drunkards, was to 
set the example of moral reform to its ancestral sire; 
when the very genius of the land was to hand back 
the sfiatuitous insult to the source of its emanation, 
and that too, through the "post paid" mediums of those 
elegant appendages of the empire city of the world, 
" royal gin palaces and metropolitan pot he jises." 

Champions of the cause sprang up, as by magic, 
on every side; and, like the highland gathe ing of the 
clans, from "brake and bush," the cold water armies 
assembled and increased, until the bloatt^/d monarch 
of the still was routed and put to fligkit in every 
direction, and moral redemption, with politi e^ fi-eedom^ 
embraced and kissed earh other. It w&i (hn ticje* 


'eap of a roused intellect, into its seat of inherent 
power, when, in conscious safety, it smiled, as like 
the saint of Tarsus, it shook back again into the 
fire whence it came, the viper which had fastened 
UDon it. 

If names and places should be perpetuated and 
known, in connection with great achievements; if 
buildinsfs and battle fields ought to be held in sacred 
remembrance, and be honored as the scenes of political 
and national triumph; then should the upper loft 
of that obscure building in the city of monuments, 
be consecrated to the spirit of reform, as the great 
moral altar upon which the offering was laid, whose 
temple is the confederated structure of this vast 
republic, whose high-priest is the spirit of progression, 
and whose incense fills the world. 

But the work stopped not with this almost 
miraculous demonstration of moral power. Progression 
was enstamped upon its banners, and the propulsions 
of that mighty spirit urged forward still to greater 

The fathers of the old system laid the foundation, 
after much difficulty and laborious toil in clearing 
the ground, and the Washingtonians built the walls 
of the stupendous temple ; but the girding power 
was lacking; and the princely dome, which was to 
preserve and reflect the virtues and the gi-aces of the 
system, was to be furnished from another source. 
It is ti'ue, the structural arch, which was to uphold the 


building, was noble — it was grand — it was beautiful 
to behold — but the keydloiie was wanting. There 
needed something to bind the whole together, and 
create for it a permanency of endurance, which, 
otherwise, it could not possess, and the lack of winch 
threatened certain ruin. Progiession applied to order 
to supply the deficiency, when, lo ! in ready response, 
a nobler band of brothers than ever graced the 
army of the Caesars, pledged to each other, and 
bound together by the most sacred ties, stood forth 
to view. The Sons op Temperance, a gallant host, 
arrayed in the snowy emblems of their faith, and 
love, in obedience, brought forth the adorning 
keystone, and shouting Love, Purity, and Fidelity 
unto it, placed it triumphantly in its present glorious 
rest. There may it remain, the strength of cause, and 
the ornament of order, until the spirit of progression 
hath written reform upon the tables of the last 
drunkard's heart : until upon the wiry nettings of 
magnetic speed, vibrates from pole to pole, the 
glorious word, that the last inebriate is reclaimed, 
and the last tear s'hed on a drunkard's grave. 

The Sons of Temperance are the legitimate 
offspring, and perfected order, of the Washingtoniai? 
system. Begotten of the spirit of progression, 
upon the body of their gi'eat paternity, they are 
acknowledged and ennobled by the genius of order. 
Not only do they stand, pledged to the Rechabitish 
vow of total and perpetual a,bstinence, but they are 


banded, also, in an uncompromising and eternal 
warfare against the demon of the distillery, whether 
he appear in the palace or the poor-liouse — in the 
parlor of wealth, or the hovel of indigence. To 
wrest human victims from tlie reeking rottenness 
of the wasting pestilence, and to restoie them to 
a soundness of body and of mind, constitutes their 
labor of love. That they are mighty to save, needs 
not to be told ; the cause speaks for itself, in the 
happy looks of the reibrmed father, the joyous 
mother, and the children snatched from penuiy and 

The structural grandeur of the temj)le, its beauty 
and its strength were perfect, when the keystone 
was placed in the arch, and the order consolidate 
and firm, embraced together in all its component 
parts. Its grace was acknowledged then, by all 
who were worthy, and its altars were sanctified 
by the voice of popular approval; and yet, in the 
adorning of the building — in the garniture of the 
order, all was not complete. There was something 
lacking still. 

When the great architect of the universe had 
finished his stupendous work of creation, and man 
stood forth, at the divine command, in the moral 
image of his God, it seemed to occur to the 
Almighty One, that it was not good for man to be 
alone. So also, perhaps, tiviught the spirit of pro- 
gression, in the erection of the Order of Temperance 


The palace may be splendid to look upon, its 

gorgeousness and costly array may attract and please 

the eye of the beholder, and yet, without the presiding 

rule of its queenly mistress, it is an imperfect and 

hollow thing. It may, indeed, present the evidence 

of power and control — the bonds and barriers — the 

checks and balances of governmental rule and authority, 

but of pleasure, there is none. Th^re is little 

of the beautiful, to attract and enlist the affections 

of the heart, in the exhibitions of naked power. The 

pill must be gilded with sweets, in order to 

recommend it to the taste of the patient. 

That which was lacking in the Temple of the 

Sons, was the same with that > which was wanting 

in the garden of Eden, to perfect the happiness 

of Adam, and, at the dedication of the second Jewish 

Temple, to content the people of Israel, — the 

presence of the Shekinah — the light of the Spirit — 

the glory of man; the in'erminglings of that genius 

of gentleness and true affection, which presides over, 

subdues, and mellows down, by its soft influence, man's 

sterner nature, and leads the lion to become the 

aflfectionate companion and defender of the lamb. 

This, too, was not withheld. From the side of 

recumbent order, as it peacefully slept upon the 

couch of its achievements, the spirit of progression 

took the image of beauty, and Union was born to the 

cause. Virtue, Love, and Temperance, the light and 

the grace of the confederate and combined order, in 


holy embrace with Love, Purity, and Fidelity, appeared 
upon the saci'ed shrin«. The result was magnificent 
in blessing, and splendid to behold ; it was full 
of moral grace and natural glory. Unique, and 
without a parallel, save in the instances of the first 
creation, and the fabled goddess of the " raythologue,'* 
the crowning wreath of loveliness and of beauty, 
was made to grow out from the very brow of 
manliness and strength which it was designed for ever 
to honor and adora. 

The Daughters of Tei^perangs, in every virtue,, 
lovely like themselves, and in every philanthropic 
grace, noble as the cause of their espousal, like Eve 
from the side of Adanj, and Minerva from the head 
of Jupiter, were born from the Sons, to be the light 
of their teinple and the glory of their order — the 
moral Shekinah of the noble cause. 

An army of Amazons, imbued with a spirit of 
moral patriotism, and far more lovely and noble 
than their ancient proto-types — the Daughters of 
Columbia — the Daughtei's of Temperance appear as 
the light and left hand supporters of the throne 
of the " Sons," and the gallant defence of the noble 

If the Amazonian Queen in arms, astonished with 
the sp'endour of her presence and her power the 
wine-drinking king, and conqueror of the East, how 
much greater must have been the surprise of the old 
alcoholic monarch of sin, death, and shame, when, 


directed by the spirit of progression, the Daughters, 
who, in conquests, never fail, became the allies of the 
Sons, in prosecuting the war. There needed but this 
to make the organism perfect and complete. And 
now, as the orders blend together, and consolidate 
into one, ultimate dominion sounds a triumph from 
afar ; and, as the word comes booming fi-om the distant 
future, it tells of a world finally snatched from ruin, 
and saved from the drunkard's doom. 

In the hope of this result, the spirit of progression 
sits proudly, now, upon its pyramid of moral power, 
still directing the campaign, and commanding the Cold 
Stream Guards (not of " her Most Gracious Majesty," 
across the wave, but of a mightier and more potent 
monarch — the king of moral freedom,) to march ! 
march ! march ! until the final overthrow, and utter 
annihilation of the enemy, shall proclaim the last 
battle for ever fought and won. The period rolls 
on; the glorious issue is forming in the womb of time, 
and soon will burst to view ; the embryo liberty- 
social, moral, and religious. 

The charge of seciecy has been speciously urged 
against the order, by the emissaries of the enemy, and, 
at one time, threatened serious danger to the noble 

cause. But it was soon ascertained that the charo-e 


was not only false in itself, but in its authorship both 
base and unworthy — issuing, commonly, from the groo-. 
shop or the gutter. There have been some exceptions, 
't is true, for men have been found reckless and bad 


enough, even in high places, to assume hostihry to the 
cause, and io sound a war blast against the order, even 
fronfi the sacred deck. But in this there is nothing 
sti'ange, nor aught that should move the surprise of 
tnv. In tlie olden time, it is said, " When the sons of 
God came to present themselves before the Lord, 
kSatan came also among them." If, in the elder day, 
the arch enemy had the effrontery to ajipear in the 
sancluary, among the sons of God, it ought not to 
be a matter of astonishment, if, in these bolder times, 
he is found, also, nestling amidst the iblds of the 
surjiiice, and sometimes even perched upon the 
pulpit cu.-hion. 

Never, however, did the trumpet of the Gospel 
o-ive a more uncertaiti sound, than when its tones 
wt.'re in rebuke of the Orders of Temperance; and 
nevei' does the minister of Christ, to a greater extent, 
forget the spirit of his calling, than when he ceases 
to remember that temperance is one of the cardinal 
virtues of his holy religion. But extraneous causes 
sometimes operate strange results in the Christian 
course. For these, great allowance is to be made. 
We should feel a deep sympathy for the situation 
of that Christian minister, who was, professedly, 
opposed to the progi'essive movements of the cause 
of temperance, when we learned that he regularly 
took his wine himself at dinner, and sometimes, at 
other seasons, also indulged in potations a little 
Stronger. Balaam would fain have cursed Israel, for 


the sake of Balak's gold, for the miser's spirit 
corr )cled in his heart ; but God forbad him, and he 
was afraid to do it. We have prophets now, bolder 
than Balaam, and some, we fear, who, when attracted 
by the fumes of Bacchus, stay not to ask permis.sitin 
of God, but iireverently bow down at once and 
worship at the heathen shrine. 

Whether the slavish bondage of a wine-bibbing 
principle within, influeiice the course, because they 
love a " wee drop '' themselves, it is not our province 
to declare, nor shall we pretend to say. If this 
latter be the true cause, then are they consistent with 
themselves, to say the least. For he who is dc]»raved 
enough to commit a known sin, we should expect 
to find, alpo, boid enough to defend it. And how can 
he so well perform this task, as upon some specious 
pretence to make proclamation of war upon a cause, 
whose prosperity wf)uld render odious in the eyes 
of community his self indulgence. To barter tlius 
with conscience, for the purchase and sale of wicked 
indulgencies, is infinitely worse than Popery itself. 

The charge of secrecy, as a cause of discountenance 
and rejection from such sources, is as uiiWtjrihy as 
the spirit of its superinduction. At first, it threatened 
miscliief; but, from continued use, it has become 
profitless and stale in the hands of its inventors, 
wliere it remains harmless and dead. The community 
at large have discovered the falsehood of the charge, 
which returns to the authors of it the unrishteoua 


slander, and attaches public opprobrium both to it 
and to them. It is proper, however, to say, that 
such ministers are few and far between. In the 
midst of «heir brethren, the great body of the 
Christian ministry, who constitute a noble champion- 
ship of the order, and the impregnable bulwark 
of the glorious cause, they appear like the- black 
spots upon the disc of the sun ; — their darkness is 
overwhelmed and subdued by the out-pourhig blazt 
of light and splendor that issues from the sur- 
rounding luminary. But they are not without their 
prolo-type. lu the great and immortal struggle 
for American Independence, which resulted in the 
achievement of political and social freedom, for this 
vast Republic, there was a Benedict Arnold; — we 
look around upon the no less glorious temperance 
revolution, and grieve to find that " there are a few 
of the same sort left." 

There is no more of secrecy observed in the orders 
of the Sons and Daughters of Temperance, than is 
required to bind the con-frateniity together, and secure 
their identity as regularly organized societies, for 
the promotion of those excellent graces — morality, 
philanthropy, and active benevolence. 

They constitute an inner circle of community, 
which the spirit of progression has set revolving, and 
which practical experience and observation have 
stamped with the most elevated impress of moral 


A free sail and an open sea are now before the 
temperance expedition. Its broad pennant proudly 
flutters in the breeze, fanning defiance in the face 
of its foes. Its war ship is manned and conducted 
by the genius of the combined orders ; the spirit of 
progression sits at the hehn,- and, wafted by the gales 
of popular approbation, its voyage is round the 

Next to the cause of religion, and closely connected 
with it, the cause of temperance should find an 
advocate in every good man who desires the pro- 
gressive prosperitj of bis land, and to see hia country 




President of Mississippi University, Oxford, Mississippi. 

Fellow Citizens : — I appear before you, by the 
solicitation of the Oxford Division of the Sons of 
Temperance, (No. 54), to recommend to your favor 
and support, the noble desig'n of their admirable 
institution, A word discloses it: it is to banish from 
our heaven-befriended land, a vice, v^^hich is the parent 
of every species of vice, and the fruitful progenitor 
of every species of crime. 

I need not name it — indeed,, it has no appropriate 
name in our language, or in any othei*. To say 
that it has made thousands of widows, tens of 
thousands of orphans, hundreds of thousands of 
culprits, and millions of paupers, is but to give a few 
bold dashes of the brush at its picture, which hardly 
foreshadows its deformity. 

He who would give you even a tolerable 
description of it, must conduct you from the hymenial 
altar of those widows, to the death-chambers and 

42 LIGHTS OF TEMPr.n ».>;cf\ 

death-gibbets of their husbands. He must paint the 
young and beauteous bride, as she gave her hand, 
her heart, and her patrimony, to one of these 
fancied images of perfection. He must conduct you 
to lier new homestead, for which she forsook tlie 
endearments of her child-hood's home, her father's 
care, and her mother's heavenly ministrations. He 
must depict the alarms which caine thundering into 
the sanctuary of her affections, when she received the 
first intimation that she was likely to become the 
drunkard's wife, and the drunkard's victim. He 
must touch, with delicate hand, the gathering eclipse 
as it came over the sunlight of her countenance, her 
sinking spirits, her silent musings, her heavy sighs, 
tier trickling tears, her secret prayers. He must 
exhibit the more vehement throes of her tortured 
bosom, as she saw, from day to day, her gloomy 
apprehensions confirmed ; her eloquent pleading, by 
their former loves, their once happy days, her 
weakness, dependence, his talents, his honor, their 
common offspring, the retributions of eternity— every 
sentence sanctified by love, and baptized with holy 
tears. He must expose her conflicting emotions, as 
she saw first her luxuries, then her comforts, then 
her necessaries, go to the grog shop ; and her 
struggles in parting, one by one, with her trinkets, 
her ornaments, her costly jewels, endeared tokens 
of friendship and parental love, to appease the cries 
of her hungry children. He must bring you to tho 


closing scene, when, by her husband's dying bed- -hed ! 
did I say 1 — pallet of straw, or rags — she listened 
to his ravings in delirium tremens, until death stilled 
his vvrithings, and stifled his blaspheniMUS execrations. 
The faithful delineator must do all this ; and then 
he will have but half sketched the picture of misery 
to which some of these thousands of widows have been 

He must next turn his pencil to those tens of 
thousands of orphans, exhibit bef(n'e you the infant 
Newtons, Franklins, Fultons, Morses, Kents, Marsha Us, 
Halls, Wesleys, Chalmers's, Cicei'oes, Burkes, Henrys, 
Washingtons, Wellingtons, and Jacksons among them, 
whose stupendous intellects, bereft of parental care, 
and robbed of the means of culture, were lost to 
their country, and for ever lost — lost ! did I say 'i — fax 
worse than lost : turned to eating ulcers upon the 
body politic ; transformed to sharpers, blacklegs, cheats, 
sv/indlers, robbers, assassins. He must show tiio 
softer sex of the throng; the Mores, the Edgewortiis, 
the Hemans's, driven from their legitimate sphere, 
to the factory, the kitchen, the brothel. He must 
trace on the consequences of these perversions, 
from generation to generation— show you drunkards 
begetting drunkards, poverty producing poverty, 
ignorance producing ignorance, and crime producing 
crime, through successive ages. When he shall have 
done all this, he will have presented you but a 
poor picture of the inebriate's orphanage. 


Turning, then, to the criminals, he must trace their 
foot-steps from the first to the last offence — show 
the plundered poor, the beguiled innocents, the 
ensnared youlh, the rifled dwellings, the fired cities, 
the butchered worthies, the frantic bankrupt, the 
raving madman, the desperate suicide, on the one 
hand ; and the long pursuit, the arrest, the prison 
scenes, the trial and condemnation of the authors 
of this mischief, on the other. He must exhibit to 
you whole families going to ruin, with the criminal 
and the victim of crime; and must give the precise 
measure of suffering which eveiy member endured. 
He must carry you through the trial scene — the 
sleepless anxiety of fathers, mothers, sisters, and 
brothers, for many long months — the toil of preparation, 
diverted from productive channels; the heavy expense 
abstracted from indigent families ; the tumult of 
feeling, as the case went fi-om the advocate to the 
juiy; and the thunder stroke, as ihey passed it to the 
judge, closed up with the word ^^ guilty J' Then the 
strong appeals to the pardoning power; and, lastly, 
the tearing of hearts assunder at the execution of the 

I witnessed once a scene which comes appi'opriately 
in place here. During the commencement exercises 
of Emory College, upon one occasion, the Governor 
of the State of Georgia,* and his lady, with a goodl^r 

His Excellency, Charles ©. McDonald. 


number of other tViends, were staying with me. All 
were light-hearted, cheerful, and happy, wlien a 
female tbim, plainly but neatly atii]-ed, enlered my 
gale, and advanced to my door. 1 received her, and, 
Ujion htir leque^t to see the Governor, J conducted 
hei" to liid room. 

" Govei'nor," said she, '' I am the mother of the 
man who is to he executed, four days' hence, at 
Cci.umbus, for mujder. Hearing of his sentence in 
Maryland, where I live, 1 hastened with all speed lo 
Milledgeville, to beg of you a respite of his sentence, 
till the meeting of the Legislature. There my money 
gave out; but not tinding you there, 1 have followed 
you hither, having walked most of the way (sixty-hve 
miles) to make the lecjuest. Governor, will you not 
suspend the sentence V 

*' Madam," said the Governor, his eyes already 
filled with tears, for no Governor ever had a kinder 
heart, "if I were to grant the respite, you could not 
possibly reach him with it, in your enfeebled and 
exhausted situation, in time to save him." 

"Yes I will. Governor; give it to me, and I will 
have it in Columbus before the hour of execution 

" Then you would have to travel night and day, 
for four nights, and three days and a half." 

" Only give me the respite, and it shall reach him 
in time. I shall see him, any how, before he dies: 
out I have no time to lose." 


" Madam," said the Governor, " I most deeply 
sympathize with you, and it pains me to tell you, that 
I should violate my official duty to grant the re^pite. 
I have examined the case, and I cannot find a single 
mitigating circumstance in it, in your son's favor." 

" Oh, Governor ! my son is not a murderer at heart 
His disposition is peaceable. He was not hirajclf 
when he committed the deed. Oh, Governor! here, 
on my knees before you, I pray you have pity upon 
a poor heart-broken w^idowed mother !" 

Our wives sobbed aloud, and the Governor and 
myself mingled our tears profusely over the bending 
suppliant. There was but one of the group that 
could speak, and that one bore the burden of us all, 
multiplied a thousand fold. The Governor raised 
her from her knees, and repeated, by a shake of the 
head, what he had already said. 

And now went forth from that poor wonian's 
heart — what shall I call it? A sighl It vras not * 
that. A sob ? It was not that. A groan ? It was 
not that ; but an indescribable out-breathing of all 
that is eloquent in grief, and melting in sorrow. Her 
accents had caught the ears of the group in the 
adjoining porch, and produced a death-like silence 
there : and my habitation, so lately the scene of mirth, 
was like the court of death. 

At length she broke silence :— 

" If there is no hope, I must hasten to my cliild 
before he dies." 


She rose, and tremblingly advanced to the porch, 
followed by the sympathizing friend, but unyielding 
Chief Magistrate. She passed the crowd without 
seeming to notice them; and, as her foot fell upon the 
step that was to conduct her away from the habitation 
of hope, she cast back a melting look, and commenced 
her last appeal, with " Oh ! Governor! for God's sake" 
— when she sunk to the floor. At length, rising, as if 
moved by the thought that she was losing the time 
which alone vrould enable her to see her son alive, 
she retired. 

The Governor disappeared with her, his carriage 
soon followed, and though no questions were asKed 
on his return, I doubt not, that he offered her the best 
solace that he could, in her extremity, without a 
breach of duty. 

Now I ask, what is all the good that ardent 
spirits have ever done, compared with the pangs 
which this one poor widow has suffered 1 But her's 
was no uncommon case. Multiply her afflictions by 
ten thousand, and you will get the exponent of what 
one class, and that about the best of our race, have 
suffered from the use of inebriating drinks. Ah ! God 
bless you, men, I fear we shall have a dread account 
to render at the court of Heaven, for our dealings 
with this class of the human family. 

Of the very few miracles which Jesus Christ 
performed, unasked, while upon earth, the most 
notable one was his raisin o- from the dead the widow' 9. 


son of Nain. The highest compliment he ever passed 
upon munificence, was upon that of a poor widow. 
And his precepts abound ia special charges in iheir 
behalf. He may, at last, avenge them of their udcer- 
sanj ; and many of us may be ranked among their 
adversaries who little dream of it. How far he may 
indulge us in a habit, the direct tendency of which 
is to shorten human life, and throw our C()m})ani()ns 
and offspring penniless upon the world ; how far 
he may hold us acquit of the sins which, though 
unpractised by us, are the legitimate fruits of our 
example ; how far we may be allowed to withdraw 
the means which he has given us for the support 
of our dependants, and the poor about our doors, 
to waste them in the purchase of liquid fire ; how 
far we may be held accountable for making laws, 
pronouncing judgements, prescribing for the sick, 
hearing and preaching sermons, with brains bewildered 
by the fumes of alcohol, are matters far beyond my 
ken; but deserving of a much more serious considera- 
tion than they generally receive. 

Returning to the order which I was pursuing, when 
I stept aside to adduce the case just referred to, let 
me ask, who can portray the pauperism which has, 
resulted from the use of intoxicating drinks; with 
its consecjuent evils ? It is not only beyond the 
Dounds of human computation ; but it is far beyond 
tne bounds of human conjecture or human concep- 


Now, gather together the evils at which I hinted 
under these four general heads, and tell me, wheiher 
there be not something humiliating m our relative 
positions at this moment? 

1 am before you, exerting the humble powders 
which God has given me, to persuade you, my 
countrymen, to lend us a helping hand in removing 
fi'om our country, the vice which is the parent of 
these half told miseries. In this country, in this place, 
amidst houses of worship, in sight of your newly- 
erected temple of science, should argument be neces- 
sary, to convince any human being, that he should 
lend all his strength, moral and physical, to drive the 
monster from the land ? 

In this country, the people are the fountain of all 
power ; and, as is the fountain, so will the stream 
be. If they are ignorant, besotted, immoral, so will 
their representatives be. If such be their representa- 
tives, wretched must be their laws, and wretchedly 
must they be administered. Without sound laws, and 
a rigid enforcement of them, there can be no security 
of life, limb, property, or reputation. Without this 
security, industry will languish, commerce will be 
paralized, and all the avenues of wealth will be 
closed up. These conclusions follow as naturally 
from the premises, as the demonstrations of Euclid 
from his axioms and postulates. 

I said, if a people be ignorant, besotted, and iraraoralj 

ihese would be the results. I might have said, if 


they be besotted alone, these consequences would 
follow, for ignorance and vice are the certain offshoots 
of drunkenness. Even wisdom, drunk, is folly the 
most baneful. 

Are these things true? No man of sense doubts 
them. Then let them be stereotyped upon your 
hearts ; and read them on your election days, when 
you see tens and hundreds of your countrymen 
staggering to the polls, as completely bereft of reason 
as the child of three years old, casting their votes, 
up<jii Vk'hich the honor of the State, and the destiny 
of the South may depend ! Bidders for the dema- 
gogue — blisters upon the bosom of the country. . If 
you can see these things, and do nothing for the 
cause of temperance, let one word in the English 
language never fall from your lips, — "patriotism." 

" But," says one, " I love my country just as much 
as a Son of Temperance does." That may be so ; 
but love of country is not patriotism; it is only an 
element of it. The drunkard loves his children as 
much as the sober man ; but what credit is due to 
his love, when he raises not a finger to save them 
from ruin — nay, when he knowingly and wilfully 
brings on their ruin ? And what does the country 
gain by your love, when you see a poison running 
through all its veins and arteries, and will not offer 
it an antidote which you hold in your hands ? 

The Sons of Temperance show their love by their 
works; do the like or lav no claim fo patriotism. 


The times now are peculiar. The South has neea 
of all the talents that God has given her — of moral 
and physical power, to its utmost reach; and of 
sleepless vigilance in the exercise of them. 

A strange, unnatural, unprovoked crusade is opened 
upon us from the North, which reduces the crusade 
of Peter the Hermit to a very common-place affair. 
In his day, Europe was Christian; Palestine was 
pagan. At that time, the Christian world held the 
tomb of a saint in high veneration. What must have 
been their reverence for the sepulchre of tlie Saviour ? 
No common blood ran in the veins of the European 
and the Saracen. They were not reciprocally in- 
debted to each other for the blessing of liberty. They 
were bound together by no common interest, no com- 
mon religion, no solemn compact. And yet, the 
world read, with amazement, the rise and progress 
of that fanaticism which moved all Europe to the 
rescue of the Holy Land, and the Saviour's tomb 
from the hand of infidels. 

But this modem crusade is by friend against 
friend, brother against brother, and Christian against 
Christian. It sunders the most sacred bonds that 
ever bound man to his fellow man. It legitimates 
every kind of warfare; tolerates every kind of insult; 
and justifies every kind of defamation. The leaders 
in it, a motley group of whites and blacks, men and 
women, saints and sinners, are plying every instru- 
mentality, lawful and unlawful, to force us lo do 


what it is impossible for us to do, without spreading 
strife, misery, and death, all around us. 

In such a band there is, of course, a cbaractel 
for every work. One to explain away the interposing 
Scriptures ; another, to undermine the barriers of the 
constitution ; another, to extract the stmg of conscience ; 
another, to disarm the law of its power ; another, to 
recruit in our kitchens ; and another, to set all law, 
human and divine, at defiance. 

They have discovered, that the relation in which 
their fathers placed us, is sinful ; and they are 
determined, if possible, to harass us into repentance 
for it ! They have found out that we are in the 
depths of misery and distress, and they are going 
to force us, by pains and penalties, to the blessed- 
ness which they enjoy. That we are in thick 
moral darkness ; and they are going to enlighten 
us, by unchurching us, and banishing us from the 
sacraments ! 

What we are to do, in this emergency, it is hard 
to say; but we all know, full well, what we ought 
not to do. We ought not, at such times, to be 
addling our brains with intoxicating liquors. Away 
^\'ith them, people of Mississippi, as you regard your 
Ciiai-acter, your property, your country, your hearth- 
stones, your wives, and your children! Away with 
them, if not for ever, at least until the cloud, which 
now hangs darkly over us, shall have spent itself 
nr passed away. 


We have to contend against a moral fojce, which, 
unopposed by strong mmd, well endowed from all 
the stores of science, will be more fatal to us 
than an open enemy one hundred thousand strong. 
Let us commence the manufacture of such minds. 
Let them be cast, refined, polished, tempered, and 
; tamped immediately, for the abolition market; if 
not needed there, they will be prized in any maiket^ 
and invaluable for domestic uses. 

In the days of British aggression, we had our 
Washingtons, Jeffersons, Madisons, and Henrys, all 
of Southern birth and growth ; and we need such, 
in these times of anti-slavery aggression. They 
are at hand, by hundreds, in the youth about you, 
if they can be properly trained. But, to have 
ihem thus trained, fathers must come away from 
whiskey barrels, and guardians eschew grog-shops ; 
venders of spirits must have magnanimity and 
patriotism enough to forego their baneful traffic, for 
their country's honor, their own security, and the 
happiness of our posterity. 

Your State has done her part, to give us the 
minds we need. She has reared the edifices, and 
supplied them with the moral machinery necessary 
to their construction. She has done her best, to 
remove every hinderance to the success of her enter- 
prise ; and now, she looks, as she has a right to 
look, for the hearty, zealous co-operation of her 
sons, one and all. 


Citizens of Lafayette, she has honored your counXy, 
by making it the seat of her beauteous structures, 
consecrated to the arts and sciences. She has, there- 
fore, special claims upon you. Will you not warmly 
and zealously respond to them ? 

Citizens of Oxford, she has brought her treasures 
to your door, richer, by far, than gold, franTcincense, 
and ■my7-rh, and she presents them to your children. 
Will you not, to a man, second her aims ? She 
gathers near you the sons of the South, drawn from 
distant points, and parental guardianship, to drink 
of the stream of knowledge which now flows at 
your portals. They come, in the confidence of their 
sires, that they will find a friend and counsellor, if 
not a guardian, in every citizen of this vicinity. Is 
there a man among you, who will recompense her 
favors, and their confidence, by doling out liquid 
poison to these youthful votaries of science ? 

And, Oh ! ye first-born sons of the University ; ye 
who are soon to go forth as specimen-coins of the 
currency in which she deals ; ye, for whom all this 
pains-taking, anxiety, and solicitude : if there should 
be found here a man so reckless of his country's 
laws, so dead to her vital interests, so regardless 
of the impending danger, so hostile to you, and so 
inhuman to your parents, that, Arnold like, he will 
betray his country, and, Judas" like, he will betray 
you, for a few pieces of silver ; will you advance 
the price of his treason ? Are you — the liope of the 


State, of the Church, and of us who are soon to 
pass away, leaving tender descendants behnid us, to 
your care — are you to become the patrons of grog- 
shops, and the companions of dram-sellers 1 You 
cannot be, without soiling your character with many 
blots, darker and more eye-offending than even this. 
You must turn away from the martial music of 
Homer, and the sweet warbling of Virgil, to listen 
to the dolorous gurgle of the death-draught, as it 
descends from the puncheon to the quart pot. You 
must forsake the companionship of Newton, in his 
evening rambles among the far-off worlds, and with 
draw your ear from his teaching upon the wisdom 
and power that made them ; to sneak under night's 
eable mantle, into the drunkard's haunts. You must 
fling down the implements by which he rose to 
Fame's loftiest peak ; to gather up the filthy drippings 
of the still-worm. You must abandon the lecture- 
room of Davy — nature's laboratory in miniature, where 
she is seen, Kaleidoscope like, exhibiting, with a few 
simple elements, beauties and wonders, in endless 
variety of form and combination, with every turn 
of the chemist's hand ; and thus to understand, 
from these exhibitions, his marvellous wisdom anc\ 
power, and through them, to command your lo^e, 
your praise, your worship. All this you must do, 
or you must do what, if possible, is still worse. 
You must colleague with slaves, to smuggle into 
the temple of science the fatal liquid, and here 


begin the work of your own undoing, and the 
destruction of as many as are weak enough, oi 
wicked enough, to consoit with you and your negro 

A drunken revel, thus got up, is no very uncommon 
thing in colleges ; and it is passed off with a titter, 
as nothinof more than a harmless I'ecreation. But 
if we mark it, from the first whisper into the slave's 
ear, to the last hiccouo^h of these vouthful bacchanals 
— if we consider the parties with whom they begin, 
their relation, the time, the place, the circumstances, 
we will find it hard to conceive of any thing more 
revolting than one of these "college frolicks." In 
the name of reason, common sense, and common 
decency, I pray you, my young friends, banish them 
from the Mississippi University. If there be those 
among you, who can thus desecrate the temple ' of 
science, and degrade themselves, do you, who are 
made of better material, set the seal of youi 
indignation upon them, and avoid them as yau would 
death and contagion. Leave them to the companion- 
ship of slaves and tipplers, the brotherhood of their 
own choosing, until the authorities of the college 
can overthrow their tables, and, with the whip of 
discipline, drive them out of the temple. 

Let us, my friends, one and all, old and young, 
unite our exertions to put down the monster vice 
of which we have been speaking. We can do it, 
and we can do it by the very instrumentalities now 


m operation; the best of all which, in my judgment, 
is the institution of the Sons of Temperance. 

I speak knowiagly upon this head. I was one 
of the very first missionaries of the Temperance 
cause in the Southern States. About three and twenty 
years ago I joined the first Temperance Society 
ever formed, I believe, in the State of Georgia. Our 
plan was, to supplant ardent spirits by less noxious 
drinks, particularly by wine. It seemed to me a 
laudable, but desperate undertaking ; but I approved 
the object, joined the society, and went forth an 
active laborer in its cause. In the course of two or 
three years, I had the pleasure of seeing many 
thousands added to the Society, and a systematic 
organization of them into a State Temperance Society, 
with auxiliaries in almost every county in Georgia. 

Let me not be understood as laying claim to 
leadership, or even to the most efficient agency in this 
great work. In these respects there were, at least, 
two of my fellow laborers, who were entitled to 
precedency over me : the Rev. A. Sherwood, of the 
Baptist Church; and the Hon. Joseph H. Lumpkin 
of the Presbyterian Church. It was soon discoverer 
that our plan was defective. The poor, who could 
not indulge in the use of wine, felt that the pledge 
operated unequally upon the members; and, for that 
reason, refused to join us. It was, therefore, proposed 
to extend the pledge to all intoxicating liquors. 
Many espoused the proposition, and, upon it, founded 


a new society. Of this number were the friends just 
named. I did not follow thero, only because I feared 
that we were running too fast for the existing state 
of public opinion. It was not long before I discovered 
that their society was running far aliead of mine, and 
I rejoined them. 

Time rolled an, and rolled up a new order of our 
faith, called the Sons of Temperance. These had 
their secrets, and therefore, I was, for a time, distrustful 
of them ; but I saw that they were doing wonders in 
the good cause, and that they numbered, in their 
fraternity, some of the most gifted and the most 
pious in the land. Confident that nothing was to be 
feared in such a community, I joined them also. And 
now, retracing our progress, I marvel that we have 
been so slow m our advances to our present position, 

Chri;t had givers us a clue to the best method 
of conquering vice, in the organization of his Church, 
eighteen hundred years ago. The uniting of people,^ 
of one faith, into one community, where the wisdom 
of all could be collected, and where their plans of 
operation could be systematized, arranged, and 
methodized, apart from the intrusion of adversaries — 
where kind counsels and brotherly admonitions could 
be interchanged, without offence, or the pain of public 
exposure — where the reformed offender could find 
friends who would overlook his faults, receive hira 
as a brother, and extend to him a helping hand i?* 
>ime of need. 


The first Temperance Society advanced one step 
towards this model, and there stopped. The Wash- 
ingtonians approached a little nearer to it, and then 
stopped. The Sons of Temperance have come as 
nearly up to it as the end of their institution, its 
elements, and the circumstances surrounding it, would 
permit; and their success has been in direct pro- 
portion to their advancement to this standard. The 
three societies have all been good ; but, comparatively, 
they have been good, better, best. 

The organization, then, is as perfect, I take it, as 
it can be rhade, by human agency alone; but there 
is still one thing needful to make the resemblance 
between it and its archetype complete. Every 
member must feel that he has something to do in 
the great work. There must be no drones in the 
hive — no lukewarmness in the cause. 

Let every man, then, be up and doing — every one, 
in every division of the Sons of Temperance ; and, 
old as I am, I may live to see your noble efforts 
crowned with complete success, at least, in this the 
favored land of Heaven. 


Of Columbia, Tennessee, and, P. G. W. P. of Tennessee. 

One of the first causes of intemperance we shall 
notice, is the false standard of respectability that 
obtains among us. A notion too generally prevails, 
that every thing is disreputable to which the term 
labor can be applied. Honest toil is voted vulgar 
and undignified; and we are disposed to graduate 
a man's meiits by what he has, and not by what he 
does — by his possessions, and not by his actions. The 
mere exterior is too often looked upon as the best 
criterion of a gentleman. We seem to have forgotten, 
that it is not the stations that we fill in life, but the 
manner in which we fill those stations, that entitles 
us to praise or censure, applause or abuse ; that it 
is merit, alono, that gives claim to consideration and 
respect. We seem, also, to have overlooked the fact, 
that merit is often concealed by poverty, and \\cq 
by the gildings of wealth; that the man whose hands 
are hardened, and whose clothes are soiled fi-om the 
daily labor by which he gains his honest living. 


may have a more generous heart — a heart filled witn 
nobler impulses to good, and that sympathizes more 
deeply with the wrongs and sorrows of others, than 
that of him whose splendid equipage may serve but 
to wash a villain's heart. Why is it, then, that the 
honest laborers — the industrious mechanics, are so often 
excluded from our parties of amusement and- pleasure ? 
Is it because their hands are harder than their hearts — 
because they have paid more attention to the inside 
than the outside of their heads'? or because they 
cannot, perhaps, bow with so good a grace as the 
courtier 1 or, like him, pour into the ear of some fair, 
Dut too credulous lady, an impassioned tale of love, 
that may be as false as the false heart of him who 
Utters it. 

Is it not to the skill and industry of the mechanics, 
tX whom those would-be aristocrats sneer, that they 
we indebted for the most of their pleasures? for the 
splendid palaces in which they reside? the gilt 
coaches in which they roll in "pomp and glorious 
circumstance ?" and the cushioned sofas whereon they 
recline, at ease, their voluptuous limbs ? It was 
the fall of the hammer, the sound of the axe, that 
aroused the wild beasts from their lairs, to make way 
for the habitations of civilized man, in this free 

And cannot the different trades, as they are 
«oraetimes foolishly called, in derision, boast of names 
that are jewels in the casket of a nation's glory? 


Did not Franldin, whose epitaph can never grow 
<lim while the lightning blazes athwart the heavens, 
\ven(l his way from the humble condition of a 
journeyman printei-, to that sublime height &om 
whence, as the eagle bathing his plumage in the 
.eternal sunshine, he looked down on other men ] 
But the time would fail us, to tell of a Rittenhouse, 
a Fulton, a Morse, whose names will be as deathless 
as their immortal spirits. 

We frequently hear it said, Such an one " does not, 
move in the fa-st circle." This is mere cant, and 
means just nothing. We have no first class, and 
second class. Merit is the first class, and the 
rest it is not worth while to place. Real worth, 
whether found in a palace or a hovel, should be 
the only dividing line in society. Our government 
recognizes none of these aristocratical distinctions. 
But we have a pseudo-aristocracy that prevails to 
an extent at which even our proud step-mother 
iierself would blush. 

Let us not be misunderstood here. We have no 
prejudices against wealth. No wish to array one 
class of society against another. None. We scorn the 
base demagogue spirit, that would buy the favor of the 
poor by plundering the rich ; that would elevate the 
indolent and worthless by spoiling enterprise of its 
legitimate reward. It is the foolish aping of foreign 
manners ; the assumption, on the part of a few, 
»f exclusive gentility, of which we complain, and which 


should be met with scorn and indignation by every 
true friend of his country. 

The practical effect of this false standard of 
respectability, which we so much deplore, tends to 
e\'il in this v/ay. All of us are disposed to be 
circumspect in our deportment, in proportion to the 
estimate we put upon the character we have at stake. 
Convince a man that he has no character to lose, 
and he becomes indifferent as to the moral consequences 
of his conduct. And this estimate of character, 
depends no less upon the opinions of others than 
upon our own. If all others were blind, we would 
take no pains to adorn our persons, and would 
have no need of rich plate, fine carriages, and fine 
houses. We would not, then, see the young ladies 
sacrificing their ease, their comfort, their health, 
and, oftentimes, their lives, to ridiculous fashion. To 
bhe sensitive, to the well balanced mind, public opinion 
.las more terrors than the penalties of the law. But 
ae who is taught, by public opinion, that his character 
is of very little worth, and that he is degraded by 
ais calling, has no manner of respect for that tribunal 
ivhich degrades him ; and thereby he loses his highest 
motive to his duty. He soon persuades himself that 
nis crimes are made venial by the loneliness of his 
condition; and justly concludes that, as his merits 
Escape praise, so his faults should escape censure. 

Therefore, to degrade the occupation of the 
.aborinsf classes, and to lessen their self-respect, is to 


blunt their perceptions of right and wrong, and to 
take av/ay from thera the highest motive they can 
have to forbear vicious indulgencies, and to put 
restrictions upon their appetites. Teach the laboring 
man . that, in public estimation, he has no character to 
lose by getting drunk, and you not only take av/ay 
fi"om him the inducements to be temperate and sober, 
but you actually offer to him inducements to fly to 
the bowl to drown his sorrows, and forget the wrongs 
and indignities he innocently suffers. This erroneous 
estimate of worth, in character, is the upas tree to the 
morals of the country. Beyond this, these artificial 
distinctions in society tend to multiply a certain class 
of men, called adventurers, who, unqualified for any 
of the learned professions — too proud to woik, because 
it is looked upon as disreputable ; and yet too poor to 
live without it — are turned upon the world to live by 
their wits alone. It requires not the gift of prophecy 
to foretell the probable destiny of such young men, 
who, with passions warm by nature, and uncontrolled 
by education, are exposed to the fearful temptations 
of idleness and want. They who, but for this 
false notion of gentility, might have adorned a shop, 
or reflected credit upon a trade, become loafers 
at the grog shop, or, what is little less degrading, 
the mean dependents upon the bounty of some great 
man for the mere privilege of bread; and, when 
thus debased, God only can foresee the depths 
of depravity and crime into which they may sink. 


To counteract these tendencies to evil, our order 
brings trie promises of its aid. Tliis is the platform 
upon which we all must meet, with no other inequality 
than that which merit gives. Here we are taught 
that man is our brother, and that the human family 
should be linked together by the sympathetic cords of 
kindness and love. The humblest mechanic here 
takes his seat, side by side with the highest dignitary 
of State. Here we learn, both from precept and 
example, that honesty and integrity constitute the 
true nobility in man ; that to toil for an honest living 
is no disgrace, but a recommendation; that no man 
is to be the less respected, the less entitled to the 
enjoyment of social privileges, because he drives the 
plough, and shoves the plane, smites the anvil, or 
makes the marble start up beneath the chisel of 

Inactivity is the violation of the laws of the mind, 
which must be constantly employed, either for good 
or evil. G-od has decreed, that an immortal spirit 
can never be' quiescent. The mind, like the wicked 
spirit the enchanter had power to call up, must be 
furnished with employment, or it turns upon him to 
whose command it is subject. While the mind is 
occupied, it has no vacant cell for the reception of a 
vicious guest. Activity is no less the law of virtue, 
than of happiness; while idleness is the parent of both 
. vice and misery. If the seducer can get her whom 
tie would ruin, to pause and listen, he makes sure of 


his victim; and, if the devil can persuade any man to 
be idle, he will soon find some work for him to do. 

And here we take the liberty to say to every father, 
no matter what fortune he may be able to bequeath 
to his son, that he bequeath to him also, habits of 
industry, and knowledge how to labor. This is a part 
of an education that cannot possibly be of any dis- 
advantage to him in any station in life. 

Besides, labor gives vigor to the mind, as well as to 
the body. He who is able to confine himself to labor, 
despite the allurements and fascinations of pleasure, 
that haunt our thoughts in the sportive hours of 
childhood, has acquired a firmness, forbearance, and 
stability of character that augurs well for the future- 
Such a victory, at such a time, over the passions, is 
more justly deserving a statue than the brilliant 
exploits of the conqueror, whose glory is perpetuated 
by monuments of human bones. Constant employment 
is the only successful mode to avoid contracting bad 
habits, or of freeing ourselves from the influence of 
Buch as have already been contracted. There is no 
situation in life, better calculated to foster principles 
of virtue, than the pursuits of agriculture ; where the 
thoughts are ennobled, and the feelings purified, by 
coming in contact with nature in her grandeur and 
simplicity. Indeed, the tinkling of the anvil, the 
shaving of the plane, the sound of the hammer, and 
the hum of busy machinery, are all highly favorable 
to the promotion of virtue. 


A second cause of intemperance is our general 
love of excitement. Everything connected with us, 
whether duties, pleasures, or business, is on the rail- 
road, steam-car system. Our nerves seem to work 
by steam. Men miist journey quick, marry quick, 
get rich quick. We cannot content ourselves to toil 
on till evening for our reward, but must be blessed 
with immediate fruition. With tliis anxious, restless 
feeling has come a wild spirit of speculation, that 
disregards all the maxims of prudence laid down by 
our fathers, and puts to peril the comforts of age, 
and the support of helpless women and children. 

This fever for speed has been attended with ad- 
vantages. It has aided in developing the physical 
resources of the country ; has conveyed intelligence 
UDon the wings of the lightning; has multiplied steam- 
Doats and steam-cars ; but has multiplied steam dis- 
tilleries, and the steam of the grog shop. The stimulus 
of alcohol has been called in to sustain this unnatural 
and undue excitement, against which we should guard, 
without checking that laudable spirit of inquiry and 
investigation, which improves the social and intellectual 
condition of our race. 

x'^nother fruitful cause of intemperance is the use 
of ardent spirits in families. The father, who daily, 
or occasionally, indulges in his dram, cannot but expect 
his son will do likewise. And though the father, 
whose moral principles are fixed, Tnay he able to resist 
the growing influence of such a habit, the son, differently 


circumstanced, of more tender years, with stronger 
passions, and those passions less disciplined in the 
school of forbearance, will become the slave, and not 
the master of this habit. The young man, who thus 
commences his career, may, jpossibly, escape the 
drunkard's fate. So, during the eruption of the 
volcano, we may venture up the mountain's side to 
j make ■ some brilliant discoveries, and may return 
unhurt. Yet a celebrated ancient philosopher sacri- 
ficed his life to such a curiosity. There is as much 
danger in the one experiment as the other. 

Whatever may be the example of the parent, 
whether for good or evil, the child looks upon it as 
worthy of imitation. At the very age in which we are 
fixing our principles, and forming our habits, we want 
no better evidence that any thing is right, than- that it 
is the practice of our parents. And to whom should 
we look for models, but to them % A man might as 
well attempt to destroy his identity, by merely changing 
his dress, as to try to free himself entirely from the 
efiects and influence of early associations. The im- 
pressions that are marked upon the young mind, the 
hand of time may disfigure, but cannot erase. Almost 
universally, they determine the destiny of the indi- 
vidual, either for weal or woe. What a lesson does 
this teach to parents, of the solemn duties they owe to 
their children ! To the father, then, we would say, if 
you cannot forbear the use of ardent spirits, on your 
own account, forbear for the sake of your son. 


But if you will persist in setting so dangerous an 
example before your sons, prepare, betimes, your heart 
for the endurance of that pungent anguish, that bitter- 
ness of spirit, that gnawing of remorse, for which 
neither heaven or earth has any consolation; when, 
in old age, the ghost of thy son shall arise with the 
stain of blood upon its front, from a drunkard's 
grave, and shall thunder in thy ear, Thou art my 
murderer ! A fiend would relent, or drop a tear of 
sympathy over the agony of a heart thus riven by tht 
thunderbolt of grief. 

It is to the example of the parent, more than to hia 
'precepts, the child looks for instruction. In vain may 
he deliver long lectures on morality to his child, if his 
practice contradicts his teachings. The child cannot 
understand the force of arguments, drawn from the 
nature and fitness of things j but he can easily detect 
the inconsistency of that parent, who, to-day, enjoins 
reverence to God, and, to-morrow, blasphemes hia 
holy name J who, to-day, exhorts to temperance and 
sobriety; and, to-morrow, wallovvs in drunkenness. 
If, then, the father would have his son temperate, let 
him be temperate himself; if he would have him 
be virtuous, let him look well to his own example. 

Another cause of intemperance is to be found in 
our social and fashionable parties. Along with the 
young, the brilliant, the joyous, the lovely, the beautiful, 
the gay, that throng the festive halls, where joy lights 
each eye, and smiles betoken the gladness of the 


neart, comes the tempter, like Satan among the sons 
of God, to do his fiendish work. 

To the banqueting of love, the wicked elf, unbidden, 
comes to mar its pleasures. He who had the firmness 
and forbearance to resist the enticements of the grog- 
shop, yields to the tempter, when the deformity of 
vice is masked by the smiles of lovely woman. He 
is overcome, not by the vice, but by the charms of 
the seducer. In a moment of excitement, with a 
heart overflowing with the poetry of love, he drinks 
the accursed poison, because it is offered by a fair 
hand, not caring that the flowers and the roses he 
thus dallies wdth, conceal a reptile whose sting is 
death. He fears not death, if woman is his destroyer; 
and the rose-buds of love, with a withered fragrance, 
breathe over his grave, like angel's sighs, their per- 
fumed breath. The spell is now broken ; the scruples 
to the first indulgence have been overcome, and 
the unfortunate young man, like a vessel broken 
loose from its moorings, to be driven, without chart, 
rudder, or compass, before wind and tide, becomes 
the slave of circumstance, and lies at the mercy 
of accident. Chance now controls his destiny. In 
all human probability he becomes a drunkard; and 
what, beyond that, the heart will not permit the 
tongue to speak. As we look onward, and see 
whither his footsteps tend, we turn away from behold- 
ing him, and blush with shame for the honor of our 


Young lady! are you not startled at the thought, 
that the sparkling glass with which you tempt the 
gallant, chivalrous, high-toned gentleman, at your 
side, may be that which will decide his fate, both 
for time and eternity? Such is the nature of man, 
that he has no power to resist the influence of 
woman. The serpent knew this, when he laid the 
plan to mar Eden's bliss. Man may have the fortitude 
to endure any pain, privation, or suffering ; may have 
the courage to charge up to the cannon's mouth; the 
firmness to stand, unawed, amid the thickest carnage 
of the battle-field; and may be able to meet death, 
without shrinking back ; but, we repeat it, he has 
no power to resist the silent eloquence with which 
v/oman's soft blandishments, and sweeter smiles, speak 
to the warm and generous heart. 

But this influence was given to woman, that it 
might be a blessing, and not a curse, to man. Woman 
was designed to be a comforter, a solace for man in 
his affliction:?, and not to multiply his diflSculties, and 
heap fresh calamities upon his head ; and, to her 
credit be it spoken, that her influence has, most 
generally, been so employed. If woman banished 
man from Paradise, she was the mother of a God; 
and was the last that lingered to weep over the 
cross of her crucified Saviour. She has visited, as 
an angel of mercy, the abodes of vn'etchedness and 
despau"; to relieve the sufferings, and supply tha 
wants of haggard famine ; to pour the balm of 


consolation into the hearts of the afflicted ; and to 
gladden with sunshine, and strew flowers along the 
pathway of life. Her influence has been exerted to 
chasten the desires, purify the thoughts, moderate 
the passions of the sterner sex, and thus leave the 
impression of her own purity upon society, that, 
like gold, seven times purified in the crucible of the 
refiner, it might reflect back, perfectly, the image 
of God, as he looked down, with complacency, upon 
mankind, his creatures. We have no fears for the 
success of any enterprise in which woman is engaged; 
and that cause may well be despaired of, that is 
pressed down by the weight of her curses. Man 
may have toiled, and toiled in vain ; but, like the 
north-wind and sun, in their experiment upon the 
traveller, when lovely woman lends hej* co-operation, 
then it is " the work moves bravely on." 

Happy are we, to see, that the cause in which we 
are engaged, calls forth her approving smiles. And 
well does it deserve her patronage ; for, to her 
interest, her protection against the most dangerous 
foe to her peace and happiness in this life, it looks 
with constant eye ; and her smiles shine upon nothing 
impure and unholy, which that pure light should 
blush lo see ! Here is to be found her dearest hope, 
her surest promise of temporal good the world 

But one of the most alarming qualities of intem- 
perance, is, that it is insidious in its advances, and 


secret in its attacks. Before its victim is aware 
that any danger is at hand, he has fallen into the 
power of the enemy. It sounds no alarm until the 
citadel is taken. It is not an enemy without the 
wall, but a traitor within the camp. It has all 
the poison of the serpent, but wants its warning 
rattle. It lulls to sleep, and cries, Peace, when there 
is no peace. It strangles those whom it embraces 
with fondness, and leaves its poison wherever it 
imprints a kiss. Before the man is aware of it, he 
has fastened upon him a habit that he cannot shake 
off; has contracted a disease nothing else will relieve, 
but that poison which produced it ; has created an 
appetite, nothing but alcohol will satiate. He has 
passed that point whence his steps can be retraced; 
and, with the speed of lightning, moves down the 
inclined plane to vice. He is upon the avalanche ; 
and, though conscious of his danger, has no power 
to escape. 

"When a man wakes up from his dream of security, 
and finds himself beridden by this habit, as by an 
incubus, he tortures his ingenuity to invent excuses 
for its indulgence. He soon deludes himself into 
the belief, that it is necessary for the preservation 
of his health; to supply some inherent defect in his 
constitution, or to counteract the effect the heat, or 
cold, dryness, or moisture, of the atmosphere, may 
have upon his body. Here, again, the power of the 
destroyer is manifest, in that it holds the reason 


spell-bound, and makes the mind upon which it 
• exercises its sorcery, the dupe of an artifice too 
shallow to impose even upon a child. It makes 
the man not only deceive others, but himself. 

The crisis in the drunkard's life, is at the very 
incipiency of the use of ardent spirits ; for, after the 
appetite has been so far vitiated, as to have acquired 
a relish for the taste and stimulus of intoxicating 
■drinks, in nine cases out of ten, his fate is as irrevo- 
cably sealed, as if he already slept in a drunkard's 
grave, with infancy for his epitaph; poverty, wretched- 
ness, want, obloquy, and shame, the legacy bequeathed 
to his family. We repeat it, the point of danger, to 
every man, is at the very commencement of the use 
of intoxicating drinks. It is the breaking loose of 
the first flake of snow fi'om the mountain peak, that 
causes the avalanche, which, gathering strength as 
it rolls on, at length buries whole hamlets and villages 
in ruins. 

Disguise it as the pride of man may, the best 
security is the absence of temptation — "the best 
safety lies in fear." No one, with the reason of 
man, ever dreamed, when he commenced the use 
of ardent spirits, of becoming a drunkard. But, 
unfortunately, before he suspects that danger broods 
nigh, he passes the bound whence his steps can never 
be retraced. Total abstinence is the only tower of 
strength, the only citadel of refuge, the only place 
of security against the danger of drunkenness. See 


that pleasure party, so sweetly gliding along the 
placid bosom of the lake, with thoughts as tranquil 
as the sleeping element upon which they ride ; as 
bright as the mellow radiance which the evening sky 
flings back over the expanse of waters. Not a breath 
disturbs the calm ; not a speck dims the prospect ; 
not a sound is heard, but the echo of their wild, 
merry laugh, as it dies away upon the far distant 
Bhore of that lake, which, cradled in the bosom of 
mountains, and lulled to rest by zephyrs, sleeps with 
the quietude of an infant's slumbers. Imperceptibly, 
to themselves, they are moving on to death; and yet, 
they dream not of danger. But, hark ! what sound 
is that, which breaks in upon their delusive dreams 
of security, and arouses them to a sense of the fate 
that awaits them 1 It is the roar of the cataract they 
are fast nearing ! Death, immediate and inevitable, 
stares them in the face ! One wild shriek of despair, 
and all is over, as they leap, with the thundering 
tide, down the awful precipice. 

Let us all, then, set our feces against the vice of 
intemperance. The age in which we live, the relations 
that we sustain to each other, and to mankind, and 
the exalted privileges that we enjoy, demand it at 
our hands, and bid us onward, in a work that promises 
so much of good, without any alloy of evil. If we 
fail in this duty, let us bear in mind that we are 
weakening the staff of age, drying up the fountains 
of domestic bliss, multiplying widows and orphans 


in tlie land, and filling their hearts with sorrow, and 
llieir habitations with poverty and mourning. Let 
not the moderate drinker fold his arms in fancied 
security. To him we would say, tarry not where 
you are, but, ^while you are yet free, flee away; for, 
though you see it not, feel it not, hear it not, a 
volcano threatens to open at your feet. Slumber not 
in your delusive dreams of safety, lest, when the 
cry is heard, announcing the approach of the enemy, 
you awake and find, that, while he slept, the stroiig 
man has been shorn of his strength ; and now, 
without the power of resistance, bows his neck to 
tlie oppressor's yoke. 





Of Richmond, Va., and G. W. P. of Virginia. 


recorded opinion of one of the wisest and wealthiest 
of monarchs. The abstract correctness of the opinion 
is not to be disputed. But, in practice, the world 
gives its support to the very opposite sentiment : in 
its wisdom, a bad name is less to be deplored than 
poverty. Fame is not always preferred to fortune 
Rank, health, life, are perilled in pursuit of wealth, 
and the sacrifice is applauded as a prudential enter- 
prise. Crime and gold, if not affiliated, possess very 
strong affinities ; and are linked in bonds, as close and 
strong as those which poets surmise, to bind poverty 
and virtue. 


There is an enigma and a charm in a name. A too 
philosophical poet has said, " A rose by any other 
name would smell as sweet." Let him try it; and 
if it do not " waste its sweetness in the desert air," 
he will divest it of all the charms that love and 
poetry have breathed on its fame. The press never 
circulated a greater falsehood, than he who said, 
*' There's nothing in a name." Every thing is in the 
name; and the more that's good in it, the better 
A good name, in man or brute, is an inheritance more 
precious than rubies. But a bad name, like a loath- 
some disease, has an infection that medicine cannot 
reach, and whose only remedy is the grave and 

"You had as well kill a dog, as give him a bad 
name." The author of this proverb was a true 
philosopher; and deserves the immortality that its 
frequent repetition, and universal application award 
him. But, however true in itself, or correct as to 
dogs, it was never intended, by its philanthropic 
discoverer, to be restricted, either in its study or its 
application to the canine race. If there be more 
than a step between a bad name and death, in a dog's 
history, there's a very short race for life, any how. 
One of the greatest misfortunes that can befal these 
sagacious friends of the race of " two-legged bipeds 
without feathers," is to give him a bad name. In 
this respect, there is a great resemblance, however 
humiliating it may seem, between men and dogs. 


Nor are societies of men exempted from this com- 
mon and dreadful fatality. A two-legged biped, or a 
society of them, fares no better, in this respect, than 
their four-footed companion. A bad name is, to man, 
a precursor of impending ruin ; as it is a fore-runner 
of death to dogs. He who brings it upon himself is 
a suicide of fame and character. He who inflicts it 
upon anothez", is their murderer. A multitude of facts, 
illustrating the profound wisdom of this proverb, will 
be remembered by the thoughtful reader. It will be 
lingular if a painful experience do not recal it, as a 
problem of experimental philosophy, to many. In its 
grave and truthful light, we may discover the reasons 
for the decline and fall of many a man, and many a 
well-devised and promising enterprise to do good. 

But there is another aspect in which the philosophy 
of names, bad ones, especially, may be studied. There 
is the wisdom that invents them ; the independence 
that affirms their logical accuracy; the manliness that 
persists in sticking them, as " shov/ bills," in the sight 
of passers-by ; and the intellectual acumen with which 
they are uttered, as an answer to all argurae^.-a. 
an exponent of all the principles, motives, and objects, 
entering into the combination of which they are put 
forth as the expression and development. The craft 
of dislike ; the skill of hatred ; the oracular feeling 
that curls the lip, and shakes the head ,• the philosophy 
of a shrug of the shoulder ; the philanthropic self-love, 
that escapes investigation by a blank stare, or a coars© 


epithet; these, each in their turn, have exerted a 
giant potency in checking the progress of benevolence, 
and crushing the hope o:' usefulness in the soul of 

There is a one-idead epithet, that, to affiliated 
efforts in the cause af humanity, plays the part of a 
world-w^ide maelstrom, engulphing every enterprise 
that fails, or refuses, to publish its good deeds from 
the tops of houses, or in the thronged market places, 
where men congregate to hear, and to tell some new 
thing. It is a Secret Society ! some one whisjDers : 
the key note is caught, and the tune sung out, wiih 
a relish that satisfies inquiry, and. compensates the 
conscience, that, in such prejudices, seeks absolution 
firom the guilt and shame of refusing its aid to a 
generous and noble effort to awaken kindly instincts, 
and guide to a better life. 

There seems to be a peculiar gratification to some, 
minds, in applying the epithet of secret — a verj 
hai'mless one, even in its worse sense, however — to 
any combination of men, for whatever object united, 
who transact their business with closed doors. To 
their fears or fancies, such a society is a mystery of 
iniquity, and the mother of abominations. Every body 
has something to object against such an organization. 
And the objections are as multiform as their authors, 
and as crude as the ignorance that prompts them. 
The principles of the Society ; the objects it aims to 
accomplish ; the modes of its operation ; and the 


persons who guide its affairs, and labor for its 
interests; are alike and indiscriminately arraigned for 
censure and condemnation. If these fail to convince 
those who urge them, of the virtue of their hostility, 
a last and all-comprehensive objection erects its awful 
form, in frowning and impatient hostility, against 
every possible combination of objects and interests, 
that brings the words secret and society into juxta- 
position with each other. 

To a society that is positively secret — secret in its 
principles, its objects, its modes of operation, its 
movements, and its members — there may be some 
ground of objection ; that is, supposing the existence of 
such a society could be known ; but, there is, clearly 
no room for opposition, unless one is ambitious of 
fighting a phantom of which he knows nothing. Such 
a society is, imr excellence, a secret society. And, 
unless one be in its secrets, he displays his own follj 
in opposing it. Between such a society, and a society 
that only has its secrets, without attempting, or 
even desiring, to conceal its principles, objects, or 
movements, there is a vast difference. In the one 
case, except the bare fact of its existence, every 
thing is hidden and mysterious ;_ in the other, nothing 
is concealed that is of importance to be known, in 
order to understand the objects of the enterprise, or 
the means by which it seeks their accomplishment. 

At this point, and to this extent, we perceive 
the difference between the Order of the Sons of 


Temperance, and other fraternities that stand out 
with marked and distinguishing prominence before 
the public mind. Its name is the unmistakeable 
exponent of its objects. 

Without intending an odious comparison — for they 
are esteemed too highly to be discredited here — it 
may be asked, with confidence and emphasis, Can 
the same be said of Odd Fellowship and Free 
Masonry ? Apart from information derived from 
other sources, what ideas of objects or utility do 
these titles convey 1 They have a reputation for 
the observance of the law of kindness, that entitles 
them to the respect and confidence of the world ; 
and might be taken, by the sternest opposers of 
secret organizations, in extenuation of any secrecy 
with which their affairs may be managed. But, 
what do their names import? They may be very 
simple, and very significant, to the initiated ; but 
they are profound and bewildering enigmas to those 
without the pale of their mystic rites, and emblematical 
signs and symbols. 

Taken alone, what idea, or ideas, do the words 
Free Masonry, or any, or all of the terms put together, 
by which the fraternity is distinguished, convey to the 
mind ? If one supposed they were hammerers of 
stone, the very first procession he might witness 
would correct the impression. And then, that other 
strange name, that led the countryman, while gazing 
at its initials, to cry out, " I. O. O, F. — one hundred 


fools !" What does it import, but a set of fellows, 
independent enough to be odd in an orderly way ] 
And what a fine time they must have, all to them- 
selves, when each is employed in doing odd things ! 
In the apt words of an Irish song, 

"Their whirligig revels, make all the blue devils 
Escape from the lodge through a hole in the roof." 

But the title of the Order of the Sons of Tem- 
perance, like the mouth of America's greatest 
statesman and orator, " speaks for itself" It needs 
no commentator. Its title trumpets its object. Each 
word is a volume ; the sentence, a history of noble 
aims, generous activity, and manly resolves. Its 
motto is an emblazonry of principles that angels 
might pause to admire, and combine to promote. 
Its character, like the hands of a clock, are on its 
■face, and denote the utility of its design, and the 
regularity with which it labors in the field of its 
merciful and magnanimous mission. 

It will not be denied, that its meetings are strictly 
private ; tV^at, like kindi'ed institutions, it has its own 
secrets — and it has an unquestionable right to them, 
and, what is better, its members know how to keep 
them — but that, in any justly objectionable sense, 
it is a secret society, cannot be aiRrraed wituout 
a disregard of all the proprieties of Jnuguage. 

An outline of its organization and objecia, and of 
its measures of antagonism to all ^har intoxicates, as 


well as Its modes of strengthening the bonds that 
6ind the friends of Temperance to their ennobling 
object; if it fail to convert its enemies into friendSj 
will, at least, it is hoped, attract and interest that 
large class of every community, who bewail the 
ravages of intemperance, and hope for the day, wher 
purity, fidelity, and brotherly love shall have a swa} 
coequal with their merits, limitless as society, an( 
endless as the life-time of God. 

The Order of the Sons of Temperance wa; 
established in 1842. In the then existing state oi 
the Temperance Reformation, it was felt to be a 
necessity, and may almfjst claim to be an invention. 
It at least confers the benefits, if it do not possess 
the merits of a discovery. It was the offspring 
of love and fear : love, for the cause of temperance ; 
and fear, that the system of operations, then and 
previously relied on for its success, was incompetent 
to the full and permanent achievement of the enter- 

The object of the organization, was to infuse a 
new and more powerful element of vitality into the 
hearts of its friends ; to strengthen their hands, 
consolidate their energies, and transmit the influence 
of a more systematized plan of operations, and a 
TOoi-e solemn imposition of the pledge through all the 
ramifications of social life. It sought to achieve, by 
orderly rules, uniformly applied, and sacred forms, 
impressively administered, the reformation of the 


inebriate; and to sustain and streriO-tlien Mm throuo-h 
the fiery hoar <3f his manly but trembling resistance, 
to a habit insatiate in its demands, and ever clamorous 
for augmenting gratifications, 

A thousand mournfiil histories proved the in- 
efficiency of popular stimulants and periodical excite- 
ments, to stay the ravages of intemperance, and 
reco\er from the corrupting influence of the liquid fire 
seller, the unfortunate subjects of the vicious habit of 
drinking. The public meetings, common to the times, 
and instrumental in accomplishing an amount of good, 
never to be disclosed in time, were yet defective to 
the full extent of all the trials, temptations, and 
necessities comm.on to a sudden abanrlonment of the 
sole stimulus of thought, feelirig, and activity. The 
earnestness of eloquence, the stirring power of 
anecdote, the energy of a successful experience in 
throwing off the shackles of intem.perance, galvanized 
<lrunkenness into spasmodic sobriety, and kindled the 
enthusiasm of hope in the breast of despair. Mul- 
titudes signed the pledge, and, for a moment, stood 
erect in the manliness of a resolve to be free. But 
they were weak through habits of indulgence, and 
powerless in a central isolation, between the vices 
renounced and the virtues they sought. They were 
lefi; alone on the margin of a desolation their own 
habits had produced ; and, without a hand to guide 
them to the good land of steady habits and virtuous 
enjoyments, that stretched out and around them 


instinct \^'ith life, and brilliant as a dream of cbildboocl. 
Never before were they so utterly alone, helpless, and 
dependent. Counsel, encouragement, and support, 
were needed to confirm their resolutions, and establish 
them in the principles of the new and better life, at 
whose portals they stood in the tremulousness of hope 
and fear. 

It was the uncensurable fault of the plan of opera- 
tions then in vogue, that it left them in loneliness, 
took them from the gutter, and placed them on the 
side walk of the street, sobered, it is true, but helpless 
and alone ; destitute, but under the pressure of want ; 
reeking with the shame of past vices ; and burdened 
with the sorrows that had accumulated and converged 
upon and against the resolves of the present moment. 
Its organization was incomplete. It counted upon 
manliness, where m^anliness was debased and destroyed ; 
gave precepts for a stern and virtuous independence 
of character to vitiated tastes, perverted feelings, and 
a will in chains ; exhorted the corpse of di'unkeiiness 
it had galvanized into the seeming of life, to the 
activities of, sober existence, and the emoluments of 
a vigorous and self-sustaining abstinence._ It had no 
halls of social intercourse; no elements of fraternal 
fellowship ; no regulations for the expression of sym- 
pathy and care for the saved, but weak and exposed; 
no organized means for the identification of the 
reformed drunkard with the cause tliat reclaimed 
bim ; no bond of union, that could opei'ate d3 a lav/ of 


social influence between the reformed, and those who 
never fell ; no associates to cheer the loneliness of his 
new position, to encourage his noble purpose, and 
sustain his faltering steps in the ascent to self-respect 
and public confidence. At the moment of his greatest 
need, when everything was perilled, and a thousand 
cravings, emboldened by a long indulgence, were 
rushing, with rude clamors, against the resolution, 
poised with so nice an adjustment over the gulf of 
ruin, when hope stood on tiptoe, with outstretched 
wing for its flight, and the raven of despair flapped 
its wings m his face, and shrieked its hellish death song, 
" Go drown it in the bowl," in the depths of his soul ; 
even then, it had no eye to pity his helplessness, no 
hand to guide him to a place of security and repose. 

It was the pressure of these necessities, and the 
desire to provide a remedy for them, that gave hinh 
to the only really efficient organization for the cure 
of intemperance, yet produced by the philanthropy 
of the age. 

It is not impossible, but some yet more successful 
agency to compass the destruction of the severest 
scourge that has ever cursed humanity, may be de- 
veloped from the enlarging benevolence of the times. 
But, at present, the Order of the Sons of Temperance 
may fearlessly challenge a comparison with every 
preceding effort; and as its principles and modes 
of operation are brought more fully to the light, it 
will be found to possess every elemenJ requisite to 


permanent and universal success. Let it be judged 
by its principles and its fruits. And if a prejudiced 
judgment condemns it, because, for self-preservation, 
and the better promotion of its noble objects, it pos- 
ses-ses the element of secrecy in its practical ma- 
chinery, its friends, for the sake of the cause, will 
submit to the decision. But they will stand by their 
principles, and still, " hand in hand," strive to bring 
the intemperate and the moderate drinker within the 
charmed circle of their operations. 

But, before the judgment is made up, and the 
decision rendered, justice demands a calm and honest 
examination of their principles, and the plans adapted 
for their efficient operation. The Order courts the 
largest publicity, and closest scrutiny of its principles. 
It conceals nothing that the world has a right to know. 
Its Pledge, its Constitution, its By-Laws, are open 
to the inspection of all. It covets an examination 
of these, as an introduction to its arcana. Its only 
secrets are its modes of entrance to the Order, and 
the form — an impressive and solemn one — by which 
it administers the pledge of total abstinence; and 
nothing of these is secret, but the language and mode 
of performing the ceremony. 

Every member, on his admission to the Order, 
is presented with a copy of its Constitution and 
By Laws ; and is authorized to submit it, for exami- 
nation, to any one who may desii'e to know the 
character, objects, and operations, of the Order. All 


that pertains to the organization, with the exceptions 
above named, will be found in the pamphlet. The 
information is as minute and full as can be desired, 
as preliminary to a determination to enter into its 
fellowship. Mere curiosity can ask no more ; and 
hostility is not entitled, even, to such an advantage. 
An analysis of its character and designs, cannot 
damage the Order, and may attract a more earnest 
consideration cf its capability to promote the success 
of a cause, already enshrined in the hearts • of all, 
who, in any department of benevolence, labor for 
the good of humanity. 

The objects sought to be secui'ed by its institution, 
are clearly avowed in the Preamble : — 

" JVe, w/iose names are annexed, desirous of forming 
a Society, to shield us from the evils of intemperance, 
afford mutual aid in case of sickness, and elevate our 
characters as men — do fledge ourselves to he governed, 
hy the following Constitution and By-Laws^ 

The objects of the Society are declared to be 
three-fold. Each is especially worthy of the consid- 
eration of those who are, or have been, addicted to 
strong drink. But the first, most prominent, and 
most ardently pursued object of the association, is 
the suppression of " the evils of intemperance." 
Every principle of the Constitution hinges upon this 
point. Every other development of the Society, is 
subsidiary to this glorious enterprise. Mutual aid, 


and the elevation of character, are adjuncts growing 
out of the necessities of the reformed, and essential 
to the success and permanence of the Society. 

It was the absence of these features that neutralized 
preceding plans of reformation, and created the 
necessity of periodical excitements and spasmodic 
efforts to keep them alive. But here a unity of 
feeling, an identity of interest, the affinities of a 
coinmon brotherhood, bind the fraternity together, 
and pledge them to a zealous devotion to whatever 
secures the haxmony, and promotes the usefulness 
of the Order. " The good of the Order," comprising 
the aggregate of its members, and their conjoint 
influence in the spread of principles, antagonistic to 
intemperance, is an object of weekly inquiry and 
constant effort. But it is in the pledge, the checks 
by which fidelity to it is guarded, and the means 
by which its adherents are multiplied, that we 
perceive the safe-guard and efficiency of the Society ; 
the benevolence that promoted its creation, and the 
sagacity that provided, in the inteiior of the edifice, 
the means of its purity and perpetuity. The pledge 
is too clear to be misunderstood ; too comprehensive 
to be evaded ; and too full to admit any plea for its 
violation, but an honest confession of delinquency. 
It is a pledge of sacred honor. 

" No Brother shall malce, hiiy, sell, or use, as a 
beverage, any spiritous or malt liquors, wine, or 


The intent of this pledge, as explained by the 
highest judicial authorities of the order, "is to 
prohibit the manufacture, purchase, sale, and use 
of all alcoholic, or intoxicating liquors, as beverage, 
whether enumerated in the pledge, or not." It is 
a pledge of total abstinence ; and the only one 
available for the suppression of " the evils of 
intemperance." It lays the axe at the root of the 
evil ; and neither spares nor pities the monster vice, 
either as consummated in drunkenness, or in any 
of the forms of its use leading to an issue so 
deplorable. Sobriety must ever follow in the wake 
of this pledge. The Oidej*, in the aggregation of its 
members, or as a unit, rests upon this principle of 
total abstinence as its basis. 

The history of the Temperance Reformation, from 
its first associated effort against spiritous liquors, 
through all the transformations of the pledge, with 
its partial and varying success, shows that this is 
the only safe arid hopeful element of efficiency. It 
was but beating the air, to fight against any one agent 
of intoxication to the exclusion of the rest. Each 
was an enemy ; the whole a deadly evil, against 
which philanthropy, for the sake of humanity, was 
compelled, as its ultimatum, to wage a ceaseless and 
uncompromising hostility. It is on this rock the 
Order erects its edifice of fraternity, and strengthens 
the cause by ail the appliances of its systematic 
arrangements and consolidated energies. 


All the machinery of ihe Order revolve around 
this object as its central orb. Its salient point is 
the pledge. Its constitution and by-laws, its forms 
and ceremonies, its secret and public movements, 
its brotherly concord and untiring zeal, are the 
outward manifestations of its inward and resolute 
hostility to the use of whatever can intoxicate. The 
entire system is constructed upon the principle 
of aggression. The Society is the shield of its 
members. They enter it for self-preservation; and 
employ its agencies as means for delivering others 
from the enticements and thraldom of the cup. 

It has two systems of operation to compass the 
destruction of " the evils of intemperance :" First, by 
inducing individuals to adopt its pledge ; and, secondly 
by v/atchiug over them with a brotherly regard, when 
they have entered its fellowship. 

As to the first, every member is an agent of the 
Order. He is a pledged advocate of Temperance : 
a workman for the good of the cause. Sensible of 
the evil he has escaped ; constantly impressed by the 
workings of the system, with the advantages it offers 
to all who desire, or need an ark of safety from the 
desolating flood of intemperance ; confirmed by each 
recurring weekly development of the excellency of its 
agencies, for the promotion of sobriety, the elevation 
of character, and relief of distress, he is constrained 
by a generous and noble desire to do good, to com 
mend it as worthy of the confidence of all v/ho, foi 


self-preservation, as an example to others, or for the 
rescue of the unhappy victims of ebriety, seek to do 
good in this line of benevolent activity. It is to this 
individual zeal and activity, that the unexampled 
success of the Order is to be attributed. And here, 
also J is the element of its permanence and univer- 

In the second place : It has an established, and well 
digested system of rules for guarding the purity of its 
members, and encouraging fidelity to the pledge. In 
this, it differs materially, and advantageously, from 
other and older forms of promoting the cause of 
temperance. Where its pledge is assumed, the 
reclaimed is not left to the weakness of his own 
resolutions, to endure for a season, then plunge into 
his old habits, or gradually subside into a life of which, 
in loo many mournful instances, the last state is worse 
than the first. Here, he is watched over, and cared 
for, by those who sympathize with his weakness, and 
know how to relieve and protect it. If he fall, they 
fly to succor and to save him, reinstate him in his 
position, gather around him as a wall of defence, and 
watch over him with the increasing anxiety of a 
brotherly regard. They shield him from the machina- 
tions oi those who seek to entrap and destroy him ; 
and from the screen of the self-secure, and, as yet, 
uinf alien votaries of Bacchus. 

As it aims at the full recovery of men from the 
evils of intemperance, and the love of strong drink, 


it has a yearning pity that suffers long, and, in all 
its sufferings, is kind. Its aim, its generous and 
magnanimous airn, is to save ; and it persists in its 
efforts, until the wretched object of its care breaks 
the last restraints of its love, and, in the self-will of 
his burning lusts, plunges the fiery stream, and sinks 
to the doom of degradation and death, allotted to 
drunkenness by an established law of heaven. It is 
a legitimate result of these efforts, that those engaged 
in them are confirmed in their detestation of a cause 
that brings evils, so unmixed and overwhelming, upon 
individuals, families, and communities. 

Beyond these things, it may be alleged, in arrest 
of judgment against the Order, and its condemnation 
as a secret society, that all the business legitimate to 
its regular meetings, and prime objects, are defined in 
the bye-laws of the organization. The subjects, and 
the order of their introduction, arc specifically stated. 
Jf any of these should seem vague and indefinite in 
their meaning, they are not so in operation. Nor do 
they conceal any thing, sinister in object, or secret in 
intention. They are only intended to avoid a stringent 
application of general principles, and to provide for 
tlie introduction of subjects, harmonious with its great 
leading features, that may not be strictly within the 
purview of its rules and regulations ; and often- 
times are brought on by emergencies, which human 
sagacity can neither anticipate, nor prevent. With 
two exceptions, entire latitude of discussion, especially 


ay to the aspects and relations of temperance, ia 

Only two subjects — politics and religion — are contra^ 
band. As to each, as no test is demanded, no inter- 
ference is allowed. Political affinities and distinctions 
are merged in the desire to do good to the intemperate, 
and to spread the sound and ennobling principles of 
the Order. 

Religious dogmas are excluded from discussion, but 
the religion of the Bible is the stay of the Order : it 
mingles with its services; absorbs, for the time, at least, 
the selfishness of sect, and stirs the heart's charities to 
labor for man, as man ; and for the recovery of the 
fallen, and the relief of the destitute. The Order both 
seeks the aid of religion in the accomplishment of 
its objects, and gives back all the influence it gains 
irom success, to the promotion of sound morals and 
pure religion. 

Brief as is its history, it is not without a multitude 
of facts, to illustrate and establish the religious 
tendency of its measures. The Division room is 
often the direct way to the Church. Fidelity to the 
Order, compelling a decent regard for the proprieties 
of life, induces respect for the Sabbath, and guides 
the feet, previously accustomed to the haunts of 
vice, to the teachings of the pulpit in the house 
of prayer. 

Tf these are its tendencies ; if its principles 
are developed in such results ; if its measures 


bring good and not evil to men and society; it 
must be apparent, that, in those features of the 
organization which involve the element of privacy, or 
even secrecy, if the distinction Joe insisted upon, 
there is nothing that can damage character, or prove 
injurious to the interests of society. Indeed, if 
universality could be given to its principles; if all men 
could be brought vi^ithin its influence, and under its 
control; it would introduce a condition of things that, 
polished and perfected by Christianity, would trans- 
form the world into an Eden of truth, harmony, and 

The objects and principles of the Order, and the 
mode of propagating them, are condensed and concen- 
trated in the expressive v/ords, 




These words constitute the motto of the Order. 
They are also comprehensive of its principles, the 
basis of its union, and the rule of its action. They 
are not accidental, but elemental ; and expressive of 
all the objects sought to be accomplished in the in- 
stitution of the Order. 

As a mere motto, they are striking and euphonious; 
and suggestive of aims and feelings that, at once; 


ennoble and elevate the character of those who adopt 
them as a rule of self-government. As exhibited in 
the habits of the Order, they are way marks to 
guide the erring through paths of sobriety to a sure 
refuge, with a charmed circle, over which fi'iendship 
presides, and where, from a common danger, each 
seeks, in love and fidelity, to promote the purity of 
the other. 

It would be difficult to find three words more 
appropriate to the objects of an organization, in 
any line of human efibrt, than are those on which 
we are now commenting. They are the touch-stone 
of the Order. Its principles, objects, and measures, 
will always be found to correspond with the talismanic 
words emblazoned on the folds of its bann,er. They 
are the visible emblem of what is inherent in the 
system : the outspoken words of its secret soul. They 
are the notes of the sweet music that joy, for deliv- 
erance, ever sings in the glowing and grateful heart 
of one who has been reclaimed from the miseries 
with which strong drink makes its victims familiar. 
They are a living joy to the reformed inebriate ; and 
a life song to his family. His wife thinks of them 
when she hears his foot-fall on the threshold, when 
the day's work is done. His little ones experience 
tlieir blessedness of meaning, in his altered habits, 
gentle words,, and tender care. The beam out of 
the wall of his once haggard home, catches the 
general joy; and every thing about him wears 


the aspect of quiet pleasure and contentment, as 
Yirhen ome. 

" Grathera 
The drapery of bis coueh about him. 
And lies down fee pleasant dreama." 

We Etre ignorant of the cireuEQStanees connectetJ 
with the adoption of this beautiful motto; but we 
can imagine the influences that guided the mind 
in the selection. Whether those engaged in the 
work of finding a motto to define the objects, 
and distinguish the feelings of the association, were 
reformed drunkards, or men not given to wine, or 
strong drink, and yet, anxious to save those who 
were, it matters not. The motto, itself, is a decla- 
ration of all the feelings, motives, and principles, 
presiding over its organization, and inspiring its 
subsequent operations. There is a life and vigor 
in them, that must render the cause immortal. Let 
us analyze them: — 


This is the impulsive cause of its existence and 
activity. Strong drink was raging. It was victor 
over thousands. Every circle of life was invaded. 
It dissolved the strongest bonds of society, and broke 
>ae noblest hearts of humanity. It had laid multi- 
tudes in the drunkard's grave; and multitudes stood 
on the same perilous verge, with its fire \yater8 in 


their hands, and a drunken leer in their ^yes. They 
were staggering into eternity, insensible of guilt, and 
without fear of God. Humanity shuddered at the 
sight, and asked, Will no one pity? can no one 
save ? 

In that hour Temperance was born. It was 
begotten of pity and love. These took the trembling 
infant, baptized it in a font of tears, and consecrated 
it to peace, order', and humanity. The child, nursed 
by philanthropy and religion, grew strong, and waxed 
vahant in fight. It was devoted to a mission of 
benevolence; and well and nobly has it toiled in 
its allotted sphere. Its trophies are happy homes, 
cheerful families, and smiling friends. But the Sun 
of Temperance was waning; its principles, though 
widely diffused and glorious, lacked the energy of 
consolidation, and the perfection of systematic organi- 
zation. It was zealous ; but its zeal needed direction. 
It was successful ; but its success, to be permanent, 
needed concentration. It waged a warfare against 
intemperance ; but its conquests were left as prisoners 
at large in the country of the foe ; and it demanded, 
for their safety, a refuge and a resting place. These 
demands prompted the movement for a combination 
of effort and influence, for the promotion and per- 
petuity of the cause of Temperance among men : 
and the Order of the Sons of Temperance presented 
its charmed circle, within which the thirst for strong 
drink might be extinguished, and from whence might 


issue an influence for reformation and sobriety, that 
no reverses could subdue, and no difficulties check. 
Love prompted the movement: it pervades all its 
agencies ; and still wrings the zeal with which its 
members "fly to succor and to save." 


Drunkenness is an enormous evil. Its defilements 
ere legion. In every aspect of it, and in all its 
relations and efforts, it is 

"A monster of so dreadful mien, 
As to be hated, needs but to be seen." 

But it must be " seen " from the stand point 
of virtuous and sober life. Men, wallowing in the 
mire and filth of intemperance, have no just con- 
ceptions of purity. Snow water cannot v/ash thera 
clean until they are sobered, " clothed, and in their 
right minds " In their debasement of " soul, body, and 
:?pirit," drunkenness is no crime, but the independence 
and glorification of human nature. To sign the 
pledge, is to sign away their liberty. They are free 
men, and mean to be free—even to get drunk. They 
are slaves of strong drink, without consciousness 
of slavery ; and they will not, by taking the pledge 
of total abstinence, bring themselves into bondage to 
any man, or any society nf men. Such is the 


reasoning of those who are dupes of the " monster." 
They neither see, nor know, nor feel, the " mien " 
he wears ; and they do not, cannot, " hate " him. 
But, let love conquer them. Bring them into contact 
with an Order whose rule is "TOUCH NOT 
UNCLEAN THING." Introduce them into 
the charmed circle of an association animated by love, 
and governed by purity; and how powerfully are 
they transformed in mind, morals, and manners. The 
remembrance of former impurities is a grief to their 
souls, and a barrier to their return. 

There sit those who have been purified from in- 
temperance. They sing the song of their redemption, 
and shout a welcome to the new comer. They gather 
around him, grasp his hand, and congratulate him 
on his escape from a land that is polluted, into a 
place of security, and to a brotherhood of love and 
purity. They are in a new world. Its atmosphere 
is clear, its climate healthful, its fruits pleasant to 
the eyes, and grateful to the taste. It is a world 
of sober men. A Society of generous feelings, 
virtuous habits, and pure principles. They are at 
home, free, tranquil, and happy. Love led them to 
the threshold, and asked admittance ; purity examined 
them, and pronounced them worthy, adorned them 
with its emblems, and registered their names as 
members of a fraternity animated by love and aiming 
at purity. 



"It is required of stewards that a man be found 
faithful." Every Son of Temperance is a steward 
of the mysteries and principles of the Order. Its 
mysteries are simple private safeguards, to prevent 
imposition : its principles are public, known and read 
of all men as conservative and saving. They involve 
a pledge of personal abstinence from all that can 
intoxicate, and a promise to make the influence of their 
own sobriety, as far as possible, a means for the 
reformation and safety of others. By all the personal 
benefits of temperance, therefore, they are bound to be 

They are also debtors to all others, to main 
tain the principles of the Order, in love and purity 
Whether he be a reformed drunkard, or one who was 
never given to strong drink, in either case, fidelity 
is a matter of duty and safety. His personal interest 
and happiness, require him to be faithful ; and, in 
fidelity, he exhibits, in an unmistakable character, 
the integrity of the Order, and the harmonious work- 
ing of its principles. 

But fidelity involves a duty to others. There are 
those who were once intemperate. The desire foi 
strong drink may not be dead, but only asleep within 
them. The monster appetite may be roused again, 
and, when awake, "strong drink is raging." Many 


have fallen. All are exposed. Safety is found only 
in fidelity. He that hesitates, is far gone in the road 
to ruin. He that wavers in his principles, may soon 
stagger in the streets. " Be not high-minded, but 
fear," is a prescript of revelation, applicable to every 
duty and relation of life. A good example is 
powerful every where. Fidelity is a gi'eat virtue. 
It has its own reward. And it blesses others. If one 
stumble, a weaker brother may fall — fall foully, fatally, 

How important, then, is fidelity. How full of 
meaning is the word. How delicate and affecting 
its relations and influences. 

Again: Fidelity is due to the Order. The cause 
is a good one. Its aims are almost religious. It is 
a powerful auxiliary to the extension of Christianity. 
It seeks to remove one of the greatest and most 
prevailing barriers to the spread of pure religion 
known to civilized life. It proffers blessings to every 
class of society, and to all the relations and con- 
ditions of humanity. To these objects every influence 
is important, and every one has influence. A hair 
will obstruct the rays of light, and cast its shadow 
on the gi'ound. Every example, though its influence 
be minute as a hair, is powerful somewhere. It is 
a serious question — shall it be for good, or for evil. 
The example of a Son of Temperance is a good one. 
It is impressive and powerful, in proportion to his 
fidelity to the principles of the Order. 


Our molfo, then, is comprehenBive of our principles. 
Separate, its terms are beautiful and attractive : united 
they are significant and powerfuh Love, Purity, 
and Fidelity,—" a concord of sweet sounds," a com- 
bination of generous influences, a trinity of glorious 

In this outline of the principles and objects of the 
Order, very little has been said of the. beneficial 
feature of the system. It comprises a field capacious 
enough for an independent essay; and deserves, at 
least, a passing notice in any exposition of the objects 
of the organization. To " afford mutual assistance in 
case of sickness," is an elemental principle of the 
fraternity, and is prominent in its practical operations. 
Assistance comprises monetary aid, and brotherly 
attentions and sympathy. For the one, a fund is raised 
by fees of initiation, and a small weekly contribution ; 
for the other, members are detached by the presiding 
officer, to wait and v/atch with the sick. If a member 
die, the Order buries him ; paying, at least, a portion 
of his funeral expenses. It pays, also, a portion of the 
expenses of burial, if a brother lose his wife. These 
are the facts bearing upon this excellent feature of 
the system. 

But they are not to be appreciated by a mere state- 
ment. They are significant of the benevolence that 
enters into the composition of the Order. But their 
real value is to be discovered and studied at the bed 
Bide of suffering, in the house of poverty ; where want 


is stronger than an armed man ; and whence the 
habits of intemperance, have excluded comfort, com- 
panions, and sympathy. It is in such a place, that the 
Order penetrates as with a sun beam, and its messen- 
gers minister there as angels of mercy on a mission 
of love. There the beautiful motto has a voice that 
speaks to the heart, and all its utterances are kind and 

Beyond the actual and pressing necessities of the 
reformed drunkard, there is a positive need of some 
such element as this, in an organization seeking to 
save him from his vices. Drunkenness is a loathsome 
iniquity. It is repulsive to a sober mind ; and excites 
a feeling of repugnance in every breast. Benevolence 
in its aims to arrest the habit, loves not to come too 
near to its victim. Before any thing effectual can 
be done for the reclamation of the intemperate, 
however, he must be not only sobered, but assured 
of the friendly sympathy of those who seek to succor 
and to save him. Every element of the Order is 
adapted to the production of this impression ; and 
in its practical developments, it is confirmed and 
perpetuated. He feels that a pure desire for his 
personal welfare, is the impulsive cause that prompts 
those who only know him as a drunkard, to enter 
his dwelling, and toil for his restoration to manhood 
and virtue : that they ccme not to spy out the poverty 
of the land, nor to reproach him for the desolation 
his vices have wrought : that brotherhood stretches 


out the hand to save, and purity points to a path 
of safety, a home of happiness, and a life-time of 
virtuous enjoyments. 

It need not be surprising, if, sometimes, a reformed 
drunkard, in the excessive joy of his deliverance, 
should magnify the merits of the Order, beyond all 
reasonable bounds, and seem even to substitute it 
for better and sacred institutions. But, let no one 
be either frightened or offended at such an exhibition. 
It is only the overflovv^ings of gratitude for an unspeak- 
able benefit. He will learn better things of the 
Order, and of himself; and may be led, through it, 
to the realization of a higher influence, and a holier 
joy, under a better, even a heavenly law of duty and 
of life. Its legitimate tendency, and whole influence, 
is to sobriety, integrity, and vu'tue ; and, through 
these, it guides to love, purity, and fidelity. And 
if the terminus be not " the Church of the living 
God," it is not the fault of the Order ; nor because 
any thing in it divests religion of its authority and 
value, or leads the mind in an opposite direction. 

Such are the principles, objects, and tendencies of 
the Order of the Sons of Temperance. A carefiil 
examination of its aims and influences in reforming 
the drunkard, and confirming him in a sober and 
virtuous life, must commend it as of good I'eport, and 
entitled to confidence. It is especially deserving of 
consideration, by all who desire the suppression of 
' the evils of intempei-ance, ' and are wilh'iig, by 

LIGHTS OP trmpi:ran<;k. J 09 

example, influence, and labor, to bring nbout so 
glorious a consummation. It is to such that the 
Order says. Come and see. It courts examination 
from all, and considers those only as worthy, who, 
from an intelligent appreciation of its merits and 
its measures, enter its fellowship, and combine Uv 
spread its transforming influences. It appeals lo 
every true friend of temperance for aid and sympathy, 
iif-^its great and ennobling enterprise. Other means 
have failed ; or their success lacks the element of 
permanency. Drunkenness is growing in the land ; 
it spreads its desolations on every hand; and the 
Order of the Sons of Temperance is the only united, 
active, and available agent for its suppression. 

A refusal to co-operate with the Order, is almost 
equivalent to an abandonment of the enterprise of 
saving the drunkard. A true zeal against intem- 
perance, ought not to be too careful as to the means 
by which success is effected, unless they be directly 
vicious, or positively demoralizing. But, where virtu f; 
is guarded, sound morals secured, and religion honored, 
and its aid invoked, it is yielding quite too much to 
prejudice, either to denounce, or stand aloof from 
an association so wisely framed for the suppression 
of the evils of intemperance, and whose career 
has been marked with a success so general and 
encouraging. Every page of its history is stamped 
with the records of its good deeds, to the person, 
and soul, and home, of the dnir)kard: as every 


pulsation of its philanthropic heart throbs with a 
desire, that its triumphs shall be as universal aa 
its love, and as permanent as its ov^n purity of 
motive and purpose. It covets, and it claims the 
"aid and comfort" of the wise, the pious, and the 
active friends of sobriety; and more, it deserves 
their confidence and co-operation. 

It will not interfere with their political affinities, 
nor Church relations. Leaving them free in *all 
these respects, and disclaiming all intention, and 
even the desire to interfere with any of these 
subjects, it says to each : We are seeking to do 
good in the earth ; to reform the drunkard ; to 
dry up the awful stream of death that sends its waves 
of fire to the hearts and homes of so many thousands 
of our brethren according to the flesh; to drive 
back the tide of woe, and shame, and sorrow, whose 
waves engulph so many sorrowing women and 
helpless children ; to turn from the drunkard's grave 
the multitudes who are staggering towards it, or 
reeling and trembling on its verge ; to restore the 
desolated home of the intemperate to its original 
innocence and comfort; to bring back the smile to 
the face of his wife, and the aid joy to her heart; 
to recall the gleeful sport and merry laugh of his 
children; and to help him and them to walk on a 
higher path of life, in a purer atmosphere ; and 
when death comes, to follow him to his resting 
place, and close up the history of our efforts, by 


placing liim in an honored grave, with our last, but 
affectionate — " Brother, Farewell." 

These are our objects. Are they not generous, 
noble, worthy of humanity 1 Are we to be left alone 
to the labor, and the honor ? Be it so. We shall 
not shrink from the task, nor v/aver in the pursuit. 
Heart, lip, and hand, are pledged to the cause ; and 
so let us work for the good of the Order, until, 
pulseless, voiceless, and motionless, we are borne 
to our rest in the house appointed for all living. 
Till heaven dismiss us from the work, let us toil for 
the good cause. 



Of Woodville, Missiasippi. 

About thirty-nine years ago, I formed the acquaini- 
tance of an interesting family, consisting of a young 
man, his wife, and one or two sprightly little children. 
This yomig couple had recently removed from the 
State of Tennessee to this country, then a territoiy. 
They had, previously to their emigration, been 
members of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and had 
been associated with some of the wisest and best of 
her ministry. At the time my acquaintance with 
them commenced, the wife retained her piety in its 
freshness and vigor ; the husband had left his first 
love, and had yielded up much to the world's 
influence. Their circumstances were unpropitious 
to religious integrity. They enjoyed scarcely any 
advantage from religious ordinances; and their 



association was almost entirely with decent and 
respectable votaries of the world. 

His religious 'aberration, as I have said, had 
already commenced, and it was rapid and wide- 
reachmg^ extending soon to his conversation, his 
conduct, and his avowed opinions. She, alas ! did 
not escape the contagion of his spirit and example ; 
though, in her case, a decent and orderly moral 
deportment prevented the horror which is felt in the 
case of gross and flagrant backsliding. She had, 
however, renounced her trust in the Saviour — with- 
drawn her devotion from him, and lost the consolations 
of his grace, which she had once enjoyed. 

His apostacy was much more strikingly manifested. 
He became profane in his language, sceptical in his 
avowed opinions, and, especially, a votary at the shrine 
of INTEMPERANCE. For Several years, he addicted 
himself to the use of ardent spirits ; first moderately, 
then with occasional excess, and, finally, he was a 
hahitual drunkard. This fearful apostacy, and still 
increasing degradation, continued for several years. 

At length, under a peculiarly efficient ministry, and 
during a considerable religious revival, these back- 
sliders were reclaimed. He, in particular, afforded 
the most satisfactory evidence, to all capable of 
judging, that his change was genuine, thorough, and 
evangelical. For some three years, I think, his 
walk, as a Christian, was not only orderly, but 
exemplary. His associations were wholly changed. 


His conversation was pure. His attendance on the 
means of grace, and the ordinances of religion, was 
punctual, interested, and manifestly profitable. 

He, especially, renounced the use of intoxicating 
liquors altogether. His friends, even in the world 
ai'ound him, and particularly those associated with 
him in Church-fellowship, rejoiced in the change 
which they witnessed in him; and, when years had 
confirmed him in habits of well-doing, they rejoiced 
no longer "with trembling," but with conJideTice. ' 

But, alas ! this confidence was sapped, and this 
rejoicing exchanged for soitow, in a moment and 
for ever. He had occasion to ride some thirty-five 
miles, on an excessively hot day, and over an extremely 
dusty road, and where it was next to impossible to 
obtain water, to quench the thirst excited by the heat 
and dust. When, therefore, he arrived at the little 
town whither he went, he was greatly exhausted — 
indeed, ready to faint. A grog-shop, at the entrance 
of the town, afforded him the first opportunity that 
occurred, in many a weary mile, to slake his burning 
thirst ; and, accordingly, he eagerly asked for water. 
He was admonished that, in his condition, to drink 
simple water would be very dangerous, and earnestly 
advised to qualify that beverage with some alcoholic 
mixture. This advice was given by one, whom 
he had re.ason to consider his friend, solicitous 
only for his safety : hence, after considerable 
resistance, he yielded, and drank the compound 


which his friend recommended, as being so safe ami 
so sanative. 

Whatever it might have been to another, to him it 
was the cup of death. He tasted; and the propensity 
for ardent spirits, w^hich had been so long donnant 
within him, revived, in all its terrible force; and he 
sunk, an unresisting victim, into a debauch fi'om which 
he never recovered. He returned to his astounded 
family drunk, and continued in a state of the most 
humiliating inebriation, till he sunk dishonored to the 
grave. His family, quite numerous, is now, I believe, 
wholly extinct. I tell not his name ! It were cruel to 
drag it from the gloom, and dishonor of a drunkard's 


Several important lessons are contained in the 
above " o'er true tale." To what fearful risks is 
piety exposed, from emigration, especially into new 
countries, where the supply of religious ordinances is 
greatly inadequate to the necessities of the inhabitants ! 
And, how cai-efully should those, who incur these 
risks, preserve alive the sacred fire on the altar 
erected in their bosoms to Jehovah ! No effort 
should be spared, no means neglected, which would 
conduce to this result. Especially should private 
and family devotion be maintained in their utmost 
integrity and efficiency. 

The danger of worldly associations can scarcely 
be otherwise made apparent, than by exhibiting their 
deleterious influence upon the spirit and character 


of the Christian, who ventures upon them. The 
Apostle understood and meant what he said, when 
he declared, that the "friendship of the world is 
enmity with God." Let Christians, then, as they 
would retain the favor of God, and as they would hold 
fast their religious integi-ity, avoid those associations aa 
they would avoid the contagion, which scatters disease 
and death wherever it is permitted to operate. 

No man, probably, ever commenced the use of 
intoxicating beverages with the intention of becoming 
a drunkard, or with the supposition, even, that he was 
in any danger of such a humiliating destiny. Were 
a prophet to present before the moderate drinker, the 
horrors of his future course — to show him his bloated, 
loathsome body ; his blighted honor ; his disordered, 
enfeebled, maddened intellect; his outraged, degraded, 
paupered family — he would say, with Hazael, "What! 
Is thy servant a dog, that he should do," or he 
THUS? The prophet must reply, " I see that you 
are a moderate drinlce?-— -the initial of all these 

Oh ! let every man — every young man, especially, 
resolve, that he will not touch, taste, or handle, the 
accursed thing ! That he will not take the Jirst step 
in this way of infamy and death ! 
^, Finally. Total ahstinence, advisable in all cases, 
is imperatively necessary to those, who have, at any 
former time, no matter lioic remote, been under the 
dominion of intemperance, and have escaped its 


fhraldora. They can never safely touch it, even as a, 

An old preacher, who had been a confirmed 
drunkard, when he was a young man, declared to 
me that, were he at the point of death, he would 
not take a drop of intoxicating liquor, if he knew that 
that alone would save his life. He well understood 
whereof he affirmed — I did not, and was shocked at 
the declaration. I asked him, if he would not consider 
his rejection of the only remedy as suicide, and, there- 
fore, wicked ? His reply was, substantially, " I know 
I am now in the favor of God ; and that, if I were to 
die, I should inherit eternal life : but, I do not know 
but that one taste of brandy would re-establish the 
dominion of intemperance, alienate the Divine favor, 
and close heaven against my entrance for ever." And, 
I have seen more than one instance, besides that above 
given, which has led me to believe that my old friend 
was right in his views, and in his determination. 

Let none, who have been slaves to intemperance, who 
are now free, and who desire to continue free from its 
dominion, permit any consideration to prevail on them 
to even taste the poisoned chalice, which they have, 
with so much difficulty, torn firom their eager lips. A 
second triumph will be far more difficult than the one 
already achieved; and death, dishonor, and perdition, 
wall result, inevitably, from the dominance of this 




Of Charleston, South Carolina. 

A GENERATION has passed by, since the Tem- 
perance enterprise was set in motion. During the 
whole course of its history, it has been subject to 
reverses and vicissitudes, such as are incident to all 
great moral movements; and, at the present time, 
it is encountering difficulties of no trifling character. 
Its enemies rejoice in what they consider a reaction; 
and its friends are not all awake to the dangers to 
which it is exposed. Some of them, indeed, are 
aware of the obstacles which it is called to surmount; 
but, unfortunately, they are paralyzed with doubt, 
fear, and misgiving; being apprehensive that the 
mission of this redeeming agency is ended; and 
they look for no further beneficial results, of any 
consequence, or permanency, from the Temperance 
cause. On the other "hand, there are some who 


appear to be oblivious of dangers and perils, perfectly 
Banguine of success, and jubilant in view of the 
trophies already won : they, consequently, care but 
little for cautions and counsels, but consider every 
man an enemy, at least, a very suspicious friend, to 
the cause, who does not lay hold of it with an unrea- 
soning and unquestioning devotion, like their own. 

But, why may we not bring the principles of 
Temperance to a rigid test 1 Why may we not 
scrutinize the various plans which have been adopted, 
to secure the end proposed ? Why may we not 
entertain the possibility of failure, and seek to find 
out how to prevent so serious a calamity ] Why 
may we not evoke, or volunteer counsels; give, 
or receive, cautions and warnings, in regard to the 
liability in question; and still maintain our position 
in the front ranks of the defenders of the cause? 
Indeed, can we be considered true and trustworthy 
friends, if we do not act thus 1 

If we are not mistaken, the time has come, 
for a thorough canvassing of the subject, and a 
careful examination of fundamental principles. This 
is the more necessary, since matters of a mere 
circumstantial character, have been swelled out beyond 
their due proportions, and attracted the public attention, 
which ought to have been principally directed to the 
essential principles of the Temperance cause. 

It was natui'al enough, perhaps inevitable, that, 
in the lapse of the third of a century, there should 


De various modifications of the mere organism of 
the enterpiise. And no danger, no inconvenience, 
would result from this, even if there should continue 
to be, as there has already been, a septenary change, 
or diversification of external form and development. 

We first had a society, whose members were 
pledged to abstain from all distilled liquors: next, 
a society, whose members were pledged to abstain 
from all intoxicating drinks ; then, a society of the 
same rule, but designed, more particularly, for. the 
reclamation of drunkards, with whom, indeed, it 
originated; and, finally, secret societies, bound by 
the same pledge, but involving other matters. In 
all likelihood, other societies will follow in due course 
of time; and thus the mere organism of the cause 
will be continually undergoing modifications — tho 
fate of all human institutions. 

Now, we are not, in the least, concerned at this. 
All these societies — with a partial exception in retrard 
to the first — have one great end in view; and they 
seek its accomplishment by, essentially, the same 
means; and no harm will result from their circum- 
stantial variations of foim ^ud method, provided the 
cause itself be not identified, exclusively, with any 
of those separate organizations. We know of places, 
where the simple Total Abstinence Society has died 
out; but the cause of Temperance has not expired 
with it: a kind of metempsychosis has taken place, 
and the spirit of the old society has incarnated itself 



in the Order of the Sons of Temperance. We know 
of other places, where this latter society has run 
its course ; and its resuscitation may be difficult, 
or impossible ; but has the mission of Temperance 
closed in those places! God forbid ! It is, frequently, 
easier to originate a new organization, than to restore a 
defunct one to life ; and who is authorized to say, that 
the principle of Temperance shall not assume a new 
form and pressure, adapted to the exigencies of the 
circumstances in question 1 Let us not lay so much 
stress upon the peculiar machinery that may be set 
in motion, as this is of secondary importance, if the 
proper principle be there, controlling the movement, 
and securing the result. 

In the present discussion, we propose to eliminate 
every thing adventitiously connected with the Tem- 
perance cause, and inquire into the philosophy of 
the undertaking. 

What, then, is the end which it proposes? and by 
what means is that end designed to be secured ? 

The end proposed by all our Temperance societies, 
is the suppression of intemperance. It is to prevent 
the sober from becoming- intemperate ; to reclaim 
those who are addicted to this vice ; and to confirm 
both in habits of sobriety. 

The question may be here asked. What is intem- 
perance ? Our great lexicogi'apher, endorsing the 
definition of Dr. Beecher, tells us that it is "Habitual 
indulgence in drinking spirituous liquors, with or 


without intoxication.*' That is to say, it is using them 
as a beverage — the very thing which our societies 
forbid ; with this addition, that our pledges exclude 
the occasional, as well as the habitual, use of those 
liquors. The occasional use may not, strictly speaking, 
be intemperance; but, as there cannot be the habitual 
use, without the prevenient occasional use, the latter 
is very near akin to the former. Some may object 
to the foregoing definition, on the ground of its 
cis-atlantic and modern origin ; as if it was framed 
to subserve the Temperance cause. If this be the 
case, we will not take advantage of the definition ; 
though it might not be difficult to prove that it is 

Temperance in drinking, implies the abstaining 
from every liquor, both with regard to kind and 
quantity, which deranges the functions of the body or 
the mind. The habitual use of spirituous liquors 
does this. If we use them, except for culinary, 
mechanical, medicinal, or religious purposes, we take 
them out of their province, and make them agents 
of mischief: and can this be considered their tem- 
perate use t 

But, waiving this definition, let us consider intem- 
perance as synonymous with intoxication. This term 
comes from a word denoting poison, and, in particular^ 
the poison used to annoint arrows, to give them a more 
deadly effect. We cannot imagine a more suitable 
and expressive word. The inebriating principle in 


spirituous liquors, is a virulent poison. When com- 
bined with other principles, in certain proportions, it 
is, indeed, not only innocuous, but also inservient to 
health and comfort ; as, for instance, in bread, and 
many other articles of food. When, however, it is 
merely diluted with water, and not mingled with 
appropriate, antagonizing elements, the poison takes 
effeet in the animal system ; and its pernicious action 
is proportioned to the condition of the body, and th® 
amount taken. Wc do not deny, that there are certain 
diseased states of the body, in which the judicious 
exhibition of spirituous liquors may be of service, on 
the same principle that other poisons may develop 
a medicinal virtue. But when used in the form we 
have defined, in a healthy state of the system, the 
poison is invariably pernicious in its effect. Every 
drop of the beverage is a poisoned arrow, shot 
through the body, conveying the deadly virus to 
every organ, suspending the exercise of its natural 
and healthy functions, and superinducing a deranged 
and morbid action. 

Intoxication is, popularly considered, synonymous 
with drunkenness, which is defined: "A state in 
which a person is overwhelmed, or overpowered, 
with spirituous liquors; so that his reason is disor- 
dered, and he reels, or staggers, in walking." It 
will not be doubted that a man is drunk, when he 
is in that state ; and, perhaps, a definition so restricted, 
may be of use in civil and ecclesiastical courts. Bu5 


tbere are conditions in which men are said to be 
half drunk — semigravis — only half weighed down with 
the load of strong drink. Their reason is, indeed, 
disordered ; but they do not manifest the derangement, 
except to a close observer; and they can stand 
upright, and walk straight, which, by the way, many 
a "soaker" a^ sot can do. You may not choose 
to call such men drunkards, but surely you cannot 
call them temperate men. It is very difficult, nay, 
it is impossible, to tell, at what precise point the 
drinker of spirituous liquors loses his sobriety, and 
becomes inebriate. There are several stages by which 
he passes, before he is " dead drunk ;" and we can 
no more tell where one ends and another begins, 
than we can tell whei-e the various ^colors of the 
rainbow begin and end — begging Nature's pardon 
for the insult involved in the comparison. 

In view of this indefiniteness, together with the 
pernicious, though limited, effect of even a small 
potation, and the danger that one draught will lead 
to another, and prove the inceptive of a course of 
dissipation, it is not safe to consider any use of 
intoxicating liquors, consistent with strict temperance; 
except under such conditions, and in such cases, as 
have been already specified — to wit: for culinary, 
mechanical, medicinal, and religious purposes. 

It is a truism of some consequence to note, that 
all intemperate habits originate in the moderate use 
of intoxicating drinks. In all cases, there is a first 


glass. "We are not born drunkards : we are not 
brought into the world with an appetite for strong 
drink. This is something adventitious to our nature. 
The taste has to be acquired. It must be created. 
This commonly takes place under the influence 
of pernicious example. Perhaps, in early life, we 
were accustomed to see the well-filled bottles on the 
side-board ; the sparkling glasses on the table ; the 
brimming bumpers in the festive circle. That which 
was a relished potation to our seniors, was, at first 
a nauseous potion to us. But it was diluted and 
disguised : our natural aversion was subdued : we 
gained, by the help of kind friends, the conquest 
of ourselves; and, by the time we had reached the 
period of adolescence, our palate and appetite were 
duly educated ; so that we could take respectable 
rank with wine-bibbers, and the lovers of strong 

Or, perhaps we were trained iii a severer school 
of domestic morals ; and it was not until we were 
advancing towards manhood, that this part of our 
education was acquired. Having gone out from 
under the parental roof, and ventured into society, 
we were conducted by the hand of mistaken friendship, 
into convivial circles, and urged to take a social glass 
— ashamed to be singular, disposed to be agreeable, 
we took the cup — alas ! that act proved the starting 
point of a career of dissipation. We tested, for 
ourselves, the ancient adage, '* Evil communications 


corrupt good manners." The fair blush of virgin 
innocence is gone ; being substituted by the shameless 
front of debauch, and the rubicund signs of confirmed 

Or, it may be, we have been proof against all 
these influences. Possessing a disposition less pliant 
and impressible, than that of the majority of young 
persons, we kept all temptations to this vice in 
abeyance, until we were overtaken with temporal 
reverses, or weighed down with spiritual distresses; 
and being ignorant of the sustaining power of Divine 
grace, and declining the consolations of religion, we 
have resorted to the Circean cup, and drowned our 
sorrows with our senses, in the intoxicating bowl. 
Stupendous infatuation ! And yet, this miserable 
delusion has been the ruin of millions. No one ever 
dreamed that he could repair his fortune, by con- 
suming its fragments in dissipation; or retrieve his 
lost character, by (endeavoring to be oblivious of his 
loss,) plunging into the Lethe of intoxication ; or 
indemnify society for the wrongs perpetrated against 
it, by inflicting a terrible wrong on himself; or 
propitiate an offended God, by involving himself in 
the capital offence of self destruction. No one ever 
imagined this. Yet the course in question has been 
adopted by thousands, to secure a temporary forgetful- 
ness of misfortune and sorrow, arising from the failure 
of business, bereavement of friends, loss of reputation, 
or that *' aching void, the world can never fill." 


Peradventure, we have passed, unscathed, through 
all these ordeals : we consider ourselves temptation- 
proof. But, we are assailed by some one of the 
thousand ills which flesh is heir to. Among the 
remedial agents employed for the restoration of our 
health, is some diffusive stimulus. Perhaps there was 
no real necessity for its exhibition ; perhaps something 
else would have done as well as brandy, or brown- 
stout. Be that as it may, the dangerous agent was 
employed ; and the remedy has proved infinitely 
worse than the disease. At first, the potion, like 
any other medicine, was nauseous and repulsive ; but 
we bravely encountered, and overcame that difiiculty; 
and, before the health which we were seeking, was 
regained, we acquired a taste for the deceitful remedy, 
which has originated a thousand diseases for every 
one that it has cured. 

Like many other evils, and more than most of them, 
intemperance gathers strength by age. If left alone, 
it will proceed witli the force and destructiveness, and, 
not unfrequently, with the unexpectedness of an 
avalanche, overwhelming eveiy thing in its course. 
Every circumstance, every event in life, furnishes the 
drunkard an excuse to repair to his cups. Habit 
becomes inveterate — ruin, imminent, not to say, 
inevitable — recovery, a moral impossibility. The pooi 
wretch has placed himself on the inclined plane 
of self-destruction, and, with a fearfully increasing 
momentum, descends the downward road. He thus 


1'ealizes the paradox, that the way of transgressors 
Is hard, and nothing is more facile than the descent 
to hell. 

How terrible are the effects of intemperance ! 
What awful ravages are committed by this monster 
evil ! 

It ruins the fortunes of a man. He not only expends 
his patrimony, or his hard earnings — his money, for 
that which is not bread; and his labor, for that which 
satisfieth notj but, he incapacitates himself for the 
duties of his profession, or avocation in life — puts it 
•out of his power to protect his interests from the 
invasion of others, such as drunkard-makers, gamblers, 
and sharpers of every other complexion, who dog the 
wretch, as vultures and sharks follow after their prey. 
There are tens of thousands this day, in the most 
squalid poverty, who were once in independent, or, at 
•least, comfortable circumstances, and might have so 
remained, but for the influence of this ruinous vice. 

See its effects on the body. What a curious con- 
trivance is our physical system ! It is, indeed, a 
system of systems — a half-dozen bodies, as it were, 
harmoniously blended into one. Let us analyze 
ourselves. Here is an osseous system— a perfect man 
of bones. How nicely are the two hundred and forty 
distinct portions of this organization moulded and 
articulated ! What strength, yet what flexibility, marks 
the harmonious combination. Here is a muscular 

system — a perfect man of muscles. How finely drawn, 



and closely compacted, are the constituent fibresi- 
What a surprising power of contractility do these 
organs possess. How strange, that one class — those 
which establish our relations t9 external objects^ — 
should be subservient and obsequious to the will ; andj 
another class — those connected with vital, assimilating 
functions — should be independent &£ its volitions ! 
Here is a nervous system— a perfect man of nerves. 
Look at those delicate organs, radiating from the 
brain and spinal marrow, and extending their ramifi- 
cations in all directions. As the stimulants of motiony 
and the instruments of sensation, their functions are 
inscrutably mysterious, and inexpressibly important. 
Here is a vascular system- — a perfect man of arteries^ 
veins, and other vessels— going forth from the great 
central fountain and reservoirs, to every point, and 
returning to the place of beginning, thus ministering 
to the supply and renovation of the vitalizing fluids, 
and conveying them in a thousand meanders to every 
part. To mention no more, here is a cutaneous 
system — a perfect man of skin. A curious arrange- 
ment this : a triple covering for the whole body ; and 
not a covering merely, but a finely wrought organ, 
eiidued with various functions, on which health, yea, 
life itself, depends. If each of these systems presenS 
so marvellous an appearance, when viewed apart from 
the rest, how much more marvellous are the phenomena 
of the united, complicated, yet harmonious,^ whole. 
How furiously do ]he \\i? or-^arus of the body. 


interpenetrate throughout the complex system ! With 
what exactitude do they correspond ! How delicately, 
yet firmly, are they combined ! And, passing all 
wonder, look at the developments of that principle 
we call life, with which the whole machinery is 
endowed. And then remember, that we are fearfully 
as well as wonderfully made. The earthly house of 
this tabernacle may be very soon dissolved. It is no 
difficult task to tear off its covering, root up its 
foundations, and consume the materials which enter 
into its construction. It may be admirably planned, 
firmly compacted, highly adorned, designed to be the 
temple of the Holy Ghost ; yet it may be deranged, 
shattered, despoiled, and ruined in an hour. 

And this, we may safely aver, that nothing tends 
more directly to destroy this temple— to dissolve this 
tabernacle — than the attacks of intemperance. There 
is not an ill which flesh is heir to, which it does not 
either originate or aggravate. It is needless to specify 
the diseases and disasters of which it is the fruitful 
source. Take up the long catalogue of the nosologist, 
and trace, from the carbuncle which despoils the human 
face divine, to the gout which tortures and fetters the 
hands and feet ; from the maniuy that slays its thousands, 
to the consumption, that slays its ten thousands ; and, 
then ask the man of science, and he will tell you, that 
strong drink is one of the most common causes of the 
whole. But for this, countless myriads, who are now 
in premature old age, tottering over the grave, with 


incurable, painful, and loathsome diseases, would be 
in the vigor of life, and in the bloom of manhood ; and 
even at threescore and ten, they might still retain a 
measure of the health and strength of younger days. 

" Though I look old, yet I am strong and lusty ; 
For in my youth, I never did apply 
Hot and rebellious liquors in my blood, 
Nor did not with unblushful forehead woo 
The means of weakness and debility: 
Therefore, my age is as a lusty winter, 
Frosty, but kindly." 

As the physical system of man, in its natural state, 
is the master-piece of God's creation ; so, when in ruins, 
it presents the most deplorable and revolting picture. 
There is nothing so disgusting as a drunkard. How 
it fills one with loathing and indignation, to behold the 
beauty defaced ; the strength paralyzed ; the delicate 
tissues of the body, violently rent and torn; the 
functions of the various organs, oppressed and 
perverted ; and the whole living system converted 
into a mass of reeking corruption. " And this will 
sack and drinking do." As our great neglected 
classic expresses it : 

"Of all God's workes, which doe this worlde adorne, 

There is no one more faire and excellent 
Than is man's body, both for powre and forme. 

Whiles it is kept in sober government; 
But none that is more fowle and indecent, 

Distemper'd thro' misrule and passions bace, 
It grows a monster and incontinent, 

Doth lose his dignity and native grace." " 


See the effects of intemperance on the mind. 
"Wonderful as is the body in its construction and 
functions, it sinks into insignificance in comparison 
with the celestial principle which it so mysteriously 
enshrines. There is a spirit in man, and the 
inspiration of the Almighty giveth him understanding. 
The intellectual attributes of his nature are marvellous 
beyond description. The powers of the mind, 
meeting with those of the body, on common ground, 
in the complex phenomena of sensation, are variously 
developed in perception, understanding, imagination, 
judgment, consciousness, memory, and volition : all 
these are called into exercise by the every-day 
operations of life. Their free and harmonious 
manifestation is essential to mental progression and 
improvement, and to the production of those results 
which demonstrate our supei'iority to the irrational 
world around us. and which prove that we are 

"Near allied 
To angels on our better side." 

Though the mind is a unit — an uncorapounded, 
indivisible, and indestructible substance ; yet its faculties 
are variously evolved, and are strangely susceptible 
of derangement and enervation, as well as of har- 
monious development and indefinite improvement. 
Whatever affects the body cannot but affect the mind. 
And if the brain, or nervous system, be infringed 
upon by any unfriendly agent or influence, the 
healthy, normal action of the mind, is instantly 


suspended, and its movements become puerile, idiotic, 
or phrensied, according to the character of the 
physical derangement. 

Now, it would be a waste of time to prove that 
this morbid mental action results from the use of 
intoxicating drinks. Every body knows that alcohol 
powerfully affects the cerebral and - medullary system, 
and, consequently, the functions of the mind. Under 
its influence the perception is blunted, the under- 
standing beclouded, the imagination inflamed, the 
judgment unhinged, the consciousness suspended, the 
memory obliterated, and the will, whose prerogative 
is to encompass and control all the rest, and which 
may be considered the man within, is dethroned and 
manacled, and becomes the slave of appetite and the 
tool of passion. Truly, the clown in the comedy, 
when interrogated, "What's a drunk man like?" made 
a philosophical reply : " Like a drowned man, a fool, 
and a madman : one draught above heat makes him a 
fool; the second mads him, and a third drowns him." 
How many lofi;y intellects have been dragged down 
from their pride of place by this debasing vice ! How 
many bright particular stars have been enveloped in 
the blackness of darkness for ever, by the smoke of this 
bottomless pit! As Chaucer nervously expresses it, 
drunkenness is " the horrible sepulture of mannes 

And yet there are some preposterous enough to 
fancy, that the intellectual powers are strengthened 


:and developed by the use of stimulating drinks. 
One would suppose the slightest inquiry into the 
philosophy of their action would be sufficient to 
settle this question. But, many men will not reason 
-on subjects in which passion and appetite are involved. 
Hence, they will point to the Anacreons and Horaces, 
•of ancient, and "the Byrons and Moores, of modern 
times ; and, because their lofty and extraordinary 
'geniuses brought forth magnificent literary creations, 
while they were addicted to habits of intemperance, 
ihey, therefore, conclude, that their immortal pro- 
ductions resulted from the inspiration of the maddening 
bowl. And, true it is, some of them give palpable 
proofs of their base parentage. But, we are safe 
in affirming, that their better writings were penned 
in spite of their intemperate habits, and not in 
consequence of them ; and, without doubt, had they 
not abused their intellectual powers, they would have 
furnished the world with works more numerous 
and more excellent than those which they have left 
behind. It is admitted, that the faculties of the mind 
may be so brought into bondage to the senses and 
appetites, that, until the demands of the latter are met, 
ihe former are not allowed to operate at all. But, 
alas ! for the mind, when its movements, which ought 
ti) be sovereign, independent, and free; and which 
must be so, for tiie development of its greatest 
capacities, are restrained or goaded by the paralysis 
jor excitement of the inebriating glass. The JPrincipia, 


the Novum Orga?mm, the Paradi&e Lost, were noif 
produced under such inspiration. 

See the effects of intemperance on the moral 
character. The moral powers are so intimately 
connected with the intelleclual, that the latter cannot 
be injured and the former remain intact. If, therefore, 
the mind be degraded, the heart will be degraded 
alsOi Drunkenness is not only a vice, but the mother 
of vices. The moral ^ense of the drunkard soob 
becomes obtuse ; all the finer sensibilities are blunted ;: 
the distinction between right and wrong is obliterated; 
and he, who, when pursuing a course of sobriety, 
would have started back with horror at the very 
idea of performing a criminal act, having come under 
ihe influence of this diabolical agency^ can enact 
the greatest enormities without any compunctious 
visitation, or even a single blush of shame. 

He who was remarkable for his equable tempera- 
ment, becomes so peevish and irritable, " that a mai> 
cannot speak to him/' as was said of that " son of 
Belial," who " was churlish and evil in his doings,'* 
though " of the house of Caleb," and might, therefore,, 
have been expected to possess a better temper But 
Nabal was a drunkard. 

He who was kind and affectiona,te in the socia'f 
and domestic relations, becomes a tyrant in liis 
household — barbarous to the wife of his bosom, antl 
Hardened against the children of his own bowels. In 
fact, the social feelings are either extinofu-ished 93? 


perverted in the breast of the drunkard ; and, before 
the vice has gone through its course, the miserable 
Vv^retch, not unfrequently, becomes a mass of selfishness, 
herding with his fellows only as the gregarious instinct 
may lead to the gratification of his worse than bestial 
appetite. The natural tendency of this vice, however 
social in its origin, is to change the smiling face of 
society into a horrible and dreary waste, v/orse than 
the desert range of the beasts of prey — to root up 
the very foundation of the social fabric — -to tear 
asunder all the bonds,, and destroy all the charities 
and amenities of life. 

"Man in society, is like a flower 
Blown in its native bed. 'Tis there, alone, 
His faculties, expanded in full bloom, 
Shine out — there, only, reach their proper use." 

How malevolent, then, must be that influence, 
which makes a man shun the companionship of his 
species ! 

" Unhappy he ! who, from the first of joys, 
Society, cut off, is left alone." 

This is horrible. Man was not only formed for 
society, but he cannot live without it ; and yet it is 
not unfrequently made insupportable, by the agency 
of this abominable vice. Even the paradise of home 
— the home of conjugal, parental, filial, and fraternal 
love — is changed into the pandemonium of discord 
and cruelty, hatred and malice — ignorance, poverty, 
disease, and wretchedness -=- under the malignant 


regimen of intemperance; for it is only whtn sobriety 
is tiie presiding genius of home, that it can be 
said :— 

" Here Love his golden shafts employs, here lights 
His constant lamp, and waves his purple wings, 
Reigns here, and revels." 

The confirmed inebriate would barter his children's 
bread — the last morsel of his starving babes — for a 
cup of his cursed poison : he would pawn the coffin 
of the wife whom he has murdered by his cruelty, 
for a bottle of rum. Natural shame, the last trace 
of the moral sense, can be erased by intemperance ; 
aiTid, when a man has lost this, he can give himself 
up to work all uncleanness with greediness. The 
brute and the demon are so united in the confirmed 
drunkai'd, that nothing but the dastardly spirit which 
he possesses, prevents him from being a hero in 
every department of crime. Indeed, he frequently 
fancies himself a hero, courageous and brave, when 
he is the veriest paltroon in existence. His principal 
bravery consists in his bacchanalian exploits. He 
takes rank among those heroes who are " mighty to 
drink wine, and men of strength to mingle strong 
drink." He can boast : " Was there ever a man a 
coward, that hath drank so much sack as I, to-day?" 
But, for any deed of noble daring, when was the 
drunkard prepared ? He might, and fiequently does, 
"justify the wicked, for reward, and take away the 
righteousness of the righteous from him ;" he might. 


and freqaently does, display the temerity of the fool, 
rushing in where angels fear to tread; but he is a 
stranger to true courage, because he is lost to every 
thing that can exalt and ennoble our nature. He 
is fit for nothing, under heaven, but to be the factor 
of the devil, and the agent of hell. And this is he, 
with a witness. It was said, by Chief Justice Hale : 
•' After twenty years' observation and experience, 
if all the murders, and manslaughters, and burglaries, 
and robberies, and riots, and tumults ; the adulteries, 
fornications, rapes, and other great enormities, which 
have been committed within that time, were divided 
into five parts, four of them would be found to have 
been the result of intemperance." The extended 
induction of facts, which has been carefully and 
repeatedly made, in our own times, and in our 
country, as well as in foreign lands, furnishes over- 
whelming evidence, that intemperance is not less 
prolific of evil now, than it was in the days of that 
eminent jurist; not less, except so far as its range 
may have been curtailed by the agencies that are 
in operation for its suppression. 

Let us glance, for a moment, at the effects of 
intemperance on the immortal destiny of man. We 
scarcely need revelation to tell us, that, if man is 
immortal, intemperance makes him an immortal ruin. 
AVhatever wastes the body, destroys the mind, and 
wrecks the moral character, caimot but doom man to 
a miserable eternity. Intemperance, more certainly, 


perhaps, than any other evil, determines the fate 
of man. It is next to impossible, to bring any 
redeeming agencies to bear upon a drunkard. His 
mind is incapable of weighing the considerations 
which are designed to move a man to repentance; 
and his heart is so hardened by his vicious course, 
that there is scarcely any possibility of convincing 
him of sin, and alluring him to the cross of Christ, 
and the mercy-seat of his offended God. And, what 
can be done for the salvation of a man, when his 
conscience is seared, as with a hot iron; and, being 
past feeling, he becomes the victim of foolish and 
hurtful lusts, degraded and lawless appetites, which 
drown men in perdition ? Preach to him ? He 
studiously absents himself from the house of God ; 
and were he to attend, his ears are heavy, that he 
cannot hear the words w^hereby he might be saved. 
Converse with him? He shuns the presence of the 
pious, as the obscene night-bird shuns the light of 
heaven ; and, should you gain his ear for a moment, 
he has no strength of resolution left, to determine 
on the virtuous course to which you may urge him. 
Pray for him ? Yes, you may do that, and you 
ought to do that ; but prayers are not miracles ; and, 
if they were miracles, they could not control the 
moral agency of man. You may preach, plead, pray, 
and weep, over the confirmed drunkard ; ministers, 
fiiends, neighbors, parents, children, wife, all may 
unite, to pluck the brand out cf the fire ; but, in 


nine cases out of ten, not to say, ninety-nine out 
of a hundred, the drunkard will persist in his course 
of debaucheiy, until he reaches the last stage of his 
miserable existence, when his latest wish will be 
breathed for that " liquid fire, and distilled damnation," 
without which he cannot live, and through which he 
must prematurely die. At the exit of such an one, 
may we not well exclaim. Died he not as the fool 
dieth 1 Is there any hope for the drunkard in death ? 
"Will it relieve his case, to urge, that, in shortening 
his life, he has only injured himself, and God may 
still be merciful to the unfortunate wretch ? What ! 
is suicide a venial fault? Is it a small offence, to 
blur and blot the image of the Great King, impressed 
upon our complex nature, to denote the master-piece 
of his creation ? Is it a trifle, to pass through life 
as a pest and scourge, a burden and disgrace, to 
general society; to break the hearts of friends and 
relatives ; to pollute the sanctuary of home ; and to 
spread the blasting and mildew of a pernicious 
example on all around ] Was it a slip of the 
Apostle's pen, when he placed intemperance among 
the mortal sins, in this formidable passage : " The 
works of the flesh are manifest, which are these : adul- 
tery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, witchcraft, 
hatred, variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, 
heresies, envyings, murders, di'wikenness, revellings, 
and such like : of the which I tell you before, as I 
have also told you in time past, that they which do 


such things, shall not inherit the kingdom of Gorl." Is 
there a single crime, in all this black catalogue — which, 
the Apostle intimates, could have been indefinitely 
extended — to which intemperance does not sustain 
•d fraternal relation 1 And is it not, frequently, the 
parent of them all] And shall they, which do such 
things, be excluded from the kingdom of God — all, 
except the degraded wretch, who, if circumstances 
had been favorable to their commission, might have 
committed all these abominations, and who cannot 
be considered innocent of many of the vices and 
crimes which are linked with his own particular and 
easilv-besetting sin? Away with delusions so diabolical, 
and reasonings so absurd! "Know ye not, that the 
unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? 
Be not deceived : neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor 
adulterei-s, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves, 
with mankind, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, 
nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom 
of God." 1 Cor, vi. 9, 10. They can have no desire 
for the refined enjoyments, spiritual engagements, and 
exalted society, of the heavenly world; no taste for the 
pure water of the river of God, the streams of which 
inake glad the inhabitants of the celestial city. And 
as they have no meetness to be partakers of the inheri- 
tance of the saints in light, so the gates of that blissful 
abode are for ever barred against their admission. The 
drunkard's grave, and the drunkard's hell, constitute 
ihe awful catas''rophe of the drunkard's probation. 


This brief notice of intemperance may give some 
idea, though a very imperfect one, of the evil, whose 
suppression and prevention constitute the task assumed 
by our Temperance associations. 

Let us novs^ examine the means adopted, to secure 
the end proposed. 

To be entitled to any respect, the means must be 
laveful and efficient. We are not at liberty to use 
agencies, in themselves improper, to accomplish any 
object, be it ever so praiseworthy. We may not do 
evil, that good may come; a laudable end will not 
justify, or sanctify unlawful means, however efficient. 
On the other hand, it is absurd to employ means, 
however lawful, if they be not efficient. They must 
be, in some good degree, proportioned to the end 
proposed, or in some way adapted to promote its 
consummation, or we cannot justify ourselves to our 
own reason for their adoption. The end proposed in 
the Temperance enterprise is proper and praiseworthy; 
no question of that : so also are the means. This will 
appear on a careful and candid scrutiny. 

What are those means ? 

The first is, the adoption of a j)ledge of total 
ahstinence from all intoxicating liquors, as a beverage 

It seems impossible to dispute the lawfulness of this 
Such abstinence violates no law with which we have 
any acquaintance ; and the pledge to abstain for a 
benevolent purpose, is certainly as much within our 
prerogative, as it was within the prerogative of the 


I/azarii€s, to which sect the Baptist belonged, and the 
Hechabites, and both of these parties received the 
approbation of heaven, and the divine sanction of their 
peculiar vows. 

This abstinence is not based upon the ascetic 
reasons of the Essenes, or the Manichees, and other 
Encratite communities of ancient heretics. They 
considered matter inherently sinful, and supposed that 
bodily mortifications would etherealize and sublimate 
their nature, and thus recommend them to the favoi 
of God. To such errorists, the Apostle alludes in 
his Epistle to the Colossians. They interdicted the 
lawful blessings of life, " Touch not, taste not, handle 
not," certain meats and drinks. By such prohibitions 
they cast a reflection upon the munificence of Provi- 
dence, and reversed the established order of nature. 
Such ascetics are severely reprehended in the first 
Epistle to Timothy, v/here they are designated as 
men who " depart from the faith— forbidding to marry, 
and commanding to abstain from meats which God 
hath created to be received with thanksgiving of them 
which believe and know the truth. For every creature 
of God is good, and nothing to be refused, if it be 
received with thanksgiving; for it is sanctified by the 
word of God and prayer." Now, the Encratites 
opposed those apostolic principles. They proclaimed 
abstinence from marriage, on the ground that it was 
no better than " corruption and fornication." They 
Drohibited animal food, and also wine, for ascetic and 


fitiperstitious reasons. Tatian, in particular, enforced 
this total abstinence on such considerations, and carried 
his measures so far, as to substitute water for wine in 
the Lord's Supper. His followers were, accordingly, 
called HydroparastatcB, and Aqtcaiii — water-drinkers. 
With these total abstinence, or temperance men, it is 
scarcely necessary to say, we have no connection or 
sympathy. Nor aie we, in the slightest degree, 
chargeable with inconsistency in condemning them, 
while, at the same time, for good and sufficient reasons, 
we may abstain from wine, from which, on improper 
principles, they also abstained. To deny this, is to 
charge inconsistency upon the Apostle himself. He 
severely reprehends the Encratites, as we have seen, 
specifying their principles of abstinence ; yet, in writing 
to the Romans, he says : "It is good neither to eat 
flesh, nor drink wine, nor any thing whereby thy 
brother stumbleth, or is offended, or is made weak;" 
and to the Corinthians, he says :• " If meat make my 
brother to offend, I will eat no flesh while the world 
standeth, lest I make my brother to offend." He thus, 
emphatically, asserts the Christian liberty, to abstain 
from v/ine ; and, indeed, inculcates the duty to do so, 
when charity suggests the expediency of such self- 

Nor is it any valid objection to total abstinence, that 
our Lord wrought a miracle, to increase the festivities 
of a wedding occasion. We do not aspire to a highei 

standard of morals than that which Christ erected 


Perish for ever the blasphemous thought ! Yet, we 
suppose, that we may abstain from wine, without 
reflecting upon the character of the Saviour, who 
seemed to have occasionally used it. It is well known, 
that the pure wines of Palestine were of a light, 
refreshing nature, and not fiery and inebriating, like 
the drinks which, by a misnomer, are called wines 
among us. " The fruit of the vine " was used by the 
Jews, as a part of their ordinary meals, for purposes 
of nutrition and refreshment — an accompaniment of 
their solid food — as we use tea and coffee, with which 
they were not acquainted. It is reasonable enough to 
suppose, in the absence of all proof to the contrary, 
that when " the conscious water saw its God and 
blushed," the wine, thus created, was, like "the pure 
blood of the gi'ape," — as Scripture expresses it- 
pleasant, refreshing, and exhilarating; but not perni. 
cious and inebriating, like the abominable mixtures 
imposed upon us under the denomination of wine. 
And yet, pure as it was, used too by the Saviour and 
his disciples, John the Baptist did not consider it hiex- 
pedient, much less any reflection upon his greater 
Master, to forego its use. And, we may be sure, 
wisdom is justified of all her children. 

We have sometimes thought it a little remarkable, 
that the enemies of temperance should be so greatly 
concerned for the character of Christ — that they should 
hold over him the broad asgis of their protection — and 
Irink wine, not for the love of it — O no ! but simply 


to patronize the Son of God ! Of course, that is the 
reason. Besides, they wish to manifest gratitude for 
the good creatures of Providence, inasmuch as 

" God is paid when man receives : 
T' enjoy is to obey." 

So says Pope's Universal Prayer, and that is good 
authority J and so is Addison's Hymn of Gratitude, 
which teaches us to sing : 

"Nor is the least a grateful heart, 
That tastes those gifts with joy." 

But i/5 it not w^onderful, that ** wine-bibbers, and 
riotous eaters of flesh," should be so very grateful ? 
Yet, such seeras to be the case. See what joy and 
gratitude Comus exhibits. Look at him, glass in hand. 
Hear him : 

"Behold this cordial julep here, 
That flames and dances in his crystal bounds, 
With spirits of bahn, and fragrant syrups mix'd— 
O foolishness of men! tliat lend their ears 
To those budge doctors of the stoic fur, 
And fetch tlieir precepts from the Cynic tub, 
Praising the lean and sallow Abstinence. 
Wherefore, did Nature pom* her bounties forth 
With such a full and unwithdrawing hand, 
Covering the earth with odors, fhiits, and flocks ? 

If all the world 
Should, in a fit of temperance, feed on pulse, 
Drink the clear stream, and nothing wear but frieze. 
The All-giver would be unthank'd, would be unpraised» 
Not half his riches known, and yet despised; 


And we should serve him as a grudging master, 

As a penurious niggard of bis wealth y 

And live like Nature's bastards, not her sons. 

Who would be quite surcharged with her own weight. 

And strangled with her waste fertility." 

Admirable reasoning ! Fervid piety ! Surely, 
'• Katnre " must he laid under great obligation to the 
voluptuary, for this homage to her opulence and 
munificence. But hear the response of reason and 
temperance, so channingly personified in the poet's 
" Lady i" 

"^VVere it a draught for Juno, when &he banquetSi- 
1 would not taste thy treas'nous offer; none 
But such as ai'e good men, can give good things ; 
And that which is not good, is not delicioas 
To a well-goveiTi'd and wise appetite." 

" I had not thought to have unlock'd my lips 
In this unhallow'd air, but that this juggler 
Would think to charm my judgment, as mine eyes. 
Obtruding false rules prank'd in reason's garb, 
I hate when Vice can bolt her arguments, 
And Virtue has no tongue to check her pride. 

Imposter T do not charge most innocent Nator&s 
As if she would her children should be riotoua 
With her abundance: she, good cateress, 
Means her provision only to the good, 
That live according to her sober laws. 
And holy dictates of spare Temperance ; 
If every just man, that now pines with wanii 
Had but a moderate and beseeming share 
Of that which lewdly pamper'd luxury, "^ 


Now heaps 'apon some few with vast excess, 
Nature's fall blessings would be well dispensed 
In unsupcrfiuous even I'lopon'.on, 
And she uo whit eucumber'd with her store ; 
And then the Giver would be better thank'd, 
His praise due paid; for swinish gluttony- 
Ne'er looks to heaven amidst his gorgeous feast, 
Bat with besotted base ingratitude 
Crams and blasphemes his feeder." 

Sound reasoning this, as weil as sublime poetry. 
Hear Comus in reply : 

"She fables not: I feel that I do fear 
Her words set off by some superior power; 
And though not mortal, yet a cold shudd'ring dew 
Dips me all over, as when the wrath of Jove 
Speaks thundei', and the chains of Erebus 
To some of Saturn's crew." 

He knew well enough, that he was bandying 
sophistical arguments ; and when touched by the 
Ithuriel spear of truth and virtue, his abominable 
defoi'mity is exposed — 

" For no falsehood can endure 
Touch of celestial temper, but returns 
Of force to its own likeness," 

Thus it is, when hypocrisy and duplicity can no 
longer give countenance to the lovers of strong drink, 
they abandoned themselves to their detestable vice, for 
the acknowledged reason, that they love it — the 
intoxicating bowl affording them, as Comus says, 
" delight beyond the bliss of dreams." 


But, poetry apart, neither reason nor revelation 
commands us to look upon the wine when it is red. 
Nothing makes it our duty to use alcoholic drinks as 
a common beverage. The idea of such an obligation 
is preposterous ; though we have heard it vehemently 
asserted, by men who claim to be the votaries of 
reason and virtue. 

Association is another element of the Temperance 
cause. Very few will start an objection to this 
principle. If it be lawful for one man to pledge 
himself to abstain from intoxicating beverages, it is 
lawful for a thousand men to do so; and it cannot be 
unlawful for them to come together and affirm their 
determination to do so. And this is the essential fact 
of all our Temperance societies. They may be less 
or more formal in their organization ; they may have 
officers, boards, committees, and other appendages 
common to voluntary associations ; they may bring the 
financial element into the cause, and make it " a 
beneficial " institution ; they may have stated times for 
meeting together; secret tokens of recognition to 
prevent imposture ; banners and pledges to please the 
taste, or attract observation ; public celebrations to 
push forward the enterprise — all these addenda, and 
others of the same category, may be adopted, if thought 
expedient, or advisable ; and who can prove that there 
is the slightest wrong in any of them ? There is noji 
a principle in those societies which contravenes any 
religious, social, or political obligation. 


Moral influence is another element of this cause* 
It is not merely to save ourselves from becoming 
drunkards, that we abstain from intoxicating drinks, 
and pledge ourselves in our associated capacity, that 
we will not use them; we propose, by all lawful 
methods, to discountenance their use by others. And 
is this wrong? May we not love our neighbor as 
we love ourselves 1 Is there any command to furnish 
him with the means of self-destruction ? any blessing 
pronounced upon him that "putteth the bottle to his 
neighbor's mouth, and maketh him drunken also?" 
Do we injure him by pointing out the danger of 
strong drink; setting him the example of abstinence ; 
and pleading with him to do himself no harm 1 Is it 
wrong to urge the incipient drunkard to hasten his 
retreat from the enchanted ground, and dash the cup 
from his lips ? to rebuke our neighbor, and not suffer 
sin upon him, so far as it may be prevented by moral 
influences 1 If this be wrong, then may we be evei 
wrong — we want not to be right ! 

And it should be borne in mind, that agencies 
of this character are those alone which properly 
belong to the Temperance cause. Temperance men 
are at liberty to unite with others, in their political 
capacity, to legislate for the suppression of intem- 
perance, by restricting the sale of ardent spirits, and 
by imposing penalties upon this abominable vice, 
which is so great a sin against society. But points 
of this character do not appertain to Temperance 


organizations, and, therefore, are not admitted into 
the present discussion. 

The agencies which the ^duse has originated, are 
so obviously compatible with every religious, social, 
and civil obligation, that it is nothing but contemptible 
cavilling to object, that temperance men are inter- 
fering with the liberties of their neighbors ; that their 
movements are of a pragmatic character, and ought 
not to be sanctioned. The Temperance cause does 
not propose to interfere with the rights of men, 
except to convince them, that they have no right to 
ruin themselves and others; and, by moral means, 
to induce them to adopt a virtuous course j but, 
further than this, it does not proceed : it leaves men 
as God leaves them, to make their own "immortal 
fates." In spite of all our endeavors, they are still 
at liberty "to add drunkenness to thirst,-" notwith- 
standing all our entreaties and warnings, they may, 
if they choose, drown themselves in the intoxicating 

If, therefore, there be nothing improper in the 
pledge of total abstinence, the principle of association, 
and the exercise of moral influence to suppress 
intemperance in the community ; and, if these be all 
the agencies essentially belonging to the Temperance 
cause, the means which it employs are incontestibly 

But, are these means efficient ? At first view, some 
may be disposed to doubt their efficiency, on the 


ground of their simplicity. But this is, in fact, that 
which makes them efficient. If the Temperance 
cause were characterized by complexity of arrange- 
ment; if there were anything abstruse in its principles; 
if it required any gi'eat outlay of mind, money, 
time, or toil, it would be in vain to expect the 
co-operation of the great masses of society ; the scheme 
would prove a failure. Its simplicity, if anything, 
will secure its success. Any man, woman, or child 
in the community can pledge to do nothing ; a very 
idiot may abstain from strong drink. And this is 
the fundamental principle, the very essence of the 
Temperance reform. It is a mere negation, of which 
every body is capable. And, surely, any one can 
allow his name to be placed on the Temperance roll^ 
any one can decline to offer the death-dealing dram ; 
any one can persuade others to dash away the cup 
of abominations ; and thus, any one, without trouble 
or expense, may be identified with the Temperance 

At the same time, those who pant for a larger 
range of influence, and wish to make sacrifices, and 
perform services of a severer sort, in behalf of 
the cause, have abundant opportunities and facilities 
afforded them by means of the organizations to which 
they belong. If they are ready writers, they can 
employ their pens; if they have the gift of speech, 
they can ppess it into the service : if they have position 
in society, they can reflect credit upon the cause, by 


lending it the prestige of their names : if they are 
wealthy, they can keep its various instrumentalities 
in operation by their liberal contributions ; and even 
if they are poor and obscure, their personal services 
may be employed, in a thousand vrays, to redeem 
the lives of their neighbors and friends from threatened 

It is too trite a remark, to need any argument 
and illustration, that no influence is so potent as that 
of example. In vain may you endeavor to induce 
others to be temperate, unless you are temperate 
yourself. You may, perhaps, be possessed of sufficient 
self-restraint, and moral strength, to use intoxicating 
drink in moderation ; but you know that your neighbor 
is not ; you are sure that his security is in total 
abstinence. It is your duty to induce him to abstain, 
as you would not have hira become a drunkard ; but, 
ean you influence him to this course, without adopting 
it yourself? Do you suppose that he suspects his 
danger, though you are certain of-it 1 Most assuredly, 
he does not. He just as much thinks you will become 
a drunkard, as that he will himself. And, in nine 
cases out of ten, he is correct in his conclusion; as 
no one is safe who tampers with the temptation. 
Depend on it, if you indulge your appetite, and stroke 
yourself with a self-complacent sense of security, you 
will only insult your neighbor, if you intimate to him 
the necessity of total abstinence, on his part, on the 
ground that he is not temptation -proof, like yourself! 


But, if you first set the example of abstinence, in 
connection with the powerful principle of association, 
you arm yourself with an influence which may be 
wielded for the salvation of others. It is possible, 
by the power of example, to move upon those who 
are already in the ranks of the intemperate ; they 
may, by this agency, be redeemed. By assuring 
them, that you feel the only guaranty you have for 
yourself, is total abstinence, they may allow the 
a fortiori force of your example to bear upon 
themselves. You may persuade them, that nothing 
short of this will do for those who have acquired 
the taste and appetite for strong drink. They know, 
by experience, that one glass leads to another, by 
an almost inevitable sequence, and irresistible fatality. 
They may keep the temptation in abeyance, until 
they have deprived it of its power, if they will not 
take a single drop of the infatuating beverage ] but 
this is their only ground of hope. And, indeed, 
abstinence is much easier than moderation, in all 
cases. Moderate drinkers are obliged to be always 
on their guard, lest they overstep * the bounds of 
moderation ; and, alas ! how few are there that 
continue thus watchful and sober. It is a startling 
fact, that all the drunkards in the world once 
occupied the position, and entertained the resolution, 
of moderate drinkers. Not a man of them ever 
expected to become a "soaker" and a sot. Indeed, 
in every thing, prevention is much easier than cure. 


Evil passions and depraved appetites grow apaccj 
and soon possess a giant strength. 

"In their beg^imiing, they are wealie and -wan, 

But soon, through suff'rance, grow to fearful! end 
"Whiles they are weake, betimes with them contend , 

For when they once to perfect sti'ength doe grow, 
Strong warres they make, and cruel battry bend, 

'Gainst fort of reason, it to overthrow." 

We are called upon, by Scripture, to " behold 

how great a matter a little fire kindleth." Let 

not the first spark, therefore, be struck amid the 

combustible materials of which our nature is formed. 

Let the preventive and conservative regimen obtahi, 

and we are safe. No one can become a drunkai'd, 

if he never tastes the drunkard's drink. But the 

indulgence in a single glass, may prove the initiative 

of a career of dissipation, terminating in the drunkard's 

grave, and the drunkard's hell ] 

" A pebblo in the streamlet scant. 

Has tuiTi'd the course of many a river: 
A dew-drop on the baby-plant. 
Has warp'd the giant oak for ever." 

If we are not mistaken, our inquiry into the 
agencies employed in the cause of Temperance, 
shows that they are philosophically adapted to pro- 
mote the end proposed ; and cannot fail to be 
efficient, when fairly tested. They are just such as 
are most likely to affect the self-determining subjects 
on whom they are brought to bear, and also to 
secure the blessing of Heaven, tliat always smiles 


upon benevolent undertakings, and sanctions all lawful 
measures adopted for their promotion. 

The efficacy of the means employed to secure 
the end proposed, in the Temperance enterprise, has 
been amply demonstrated in its historical develop- 
ment. Its principles have been subjected to a 
severe practical test ; and they have proved to be 
far from Utopian in their character; and its under- 
takings do not appear, in the review, to have any 
thing, in common, with mere Quixotic adventures. 
On the contrary, they have enlisted the co-operation 
of professional men, renowned for their science and 
learning, and practical men, of acknowledged gravity 
and prudence. Thousands of societies have been 
organized on its basis, and hundreds of thousands 
of names have been identified with its plans. A great 
multitude, which no man can number, have been 
saved from entering on a career of vice, by its timely 
interposition ; and drunkards, not a few, have been 
redeemed by its agency. In some cases, a conscience 
has been developed in the makers and venders of 
the cursed beverage, and they have been induced to 
abandon their damning avocation — an achievement of 
the cause, sccarcely less than miraculous. A public 
sentiment in favor of Temperance has been created; 
and it is no longer considered a violation of the rites 
of hospitality, to withhold the heretofore customary 
libations at its shrine. Indeed, in many places, the 
presentation of the bottle to one's guests, would be 


^.onsidered a mark of ignorance and ill manners, 
not to say, a downright insult. A large mass of 
evidence, corroborative of all these assertions, could 
readily be adduced, did it come within the purview 
of the present discussion. But there is, in fact, no 
necessity to enlarge upon the historical development 
of the cause, as that is known and read of all men. 
The actual working of the system, undeniably corres- 
ponds with its philosophical complexion. 

The friends of the cause, however, would do well 
to bear in mind, that much yet remains to be done. 
The victories won in this country, Great Britain, on 
the Continent of Europe, and elsewhere, do not amount 
to a universal conquest. Thousands of enemies are 
yet in the field ; " and there remaineth yet very 
much land to be possessed." But, were il otherwise 
— were the triumphs of the cause complete in every 
nation under heaven, the mission of Temperance 
would not be fulfilled. Its influence is not only 
aggressive, but also conservative, and the latter 
rather than the former. There are thousands of 
reformed inebriates in our societies, who must be 
nursed with gentleness and prudence. They are 
to be confirmed in their virtuous resolutions, and 
established in their habits of sobriety. They have 
abandoned the fellowship of their former boon com- 
panions, and we are bound to secure them a full 
indemnity. We must let them see, and make them 
feel, that they have, friends in virtue, who will stick 


closer to them than brothers in vice. We must take 
them by the hand, and assist them in recovering 
their shattered fortunes, and in retrievinff their lost 
reputation. The spirit of the Temperance cause 
demands this of us. And we must go further than 
this, when occasion requires. We must not summarily 
cast away a frail member of the society, because he 
has yielded to temptation, and violated his pledge. 
We must follow up the offender, not with harsh 
reflections and denunciatory rebukes, but in the 
temper of thai; beautiful precept of inspiration: 
*' Brethren, if any be overtaken in a fault, ye which 
are spiritual restore such a one in the spirit of meek- 
ness, considering thyself, lest thou also be tempted." 
It is in this way, that the great principle of association 
can be carried out to pi'acti^al and beneficial purposes. 
Every member of the society feels, that he has an 
interest in the character and conduct of every other 
member. A sympathy is engendered, which canned 
fail to be salutary in its manifestation. The mere 
esprit du corps, in many instances, has proved of 
immense advantage, and we ought not to be slow in 
availing owrselves of it. 

Tiien, again, it is to be noted, that the Temperance 
Society, to answer the full end of the organization, 
must be immortal. Hence, the necessity of enlisting 
the rising generation in the cause. Let the youthful 
Hannibals be taken to the altar of Temperance, and 
made to swear eternal enmitv to the foe with which 


we are at wax. Let them be formally incorporated 
with our organizations; so shall they be saved from 
intemperance themselyes, and shall perpetuate this 
redeeming agency when we shall have accomplished 
our earthly course. 

The Temperance cause resembles Christianity in 
this, that it acts rationally, philosophically, and not 
like a charm. It requires personal adoption, constant 
exertion, and patient continuance, in order to realize 
its proposed ends. Its principles and plans, however 
excellent, will not operate to the production of 
beneficial results, only as they are embodied in- 
personal agencies, and developed in persevering efforts. 
And we are encouraged in this undertaking, by the 
consideration, that we are not engaged in untried 
experiments. Other men labored, and we have entered' 
into their labors. We have not half the difficulties 
to encounter, which had to be surmounted by the 
pioneei's in this cause. So much information has 
been spread abroad, in reference to the evil effects- 
of the use of ardent spirits, that we can readily 
fortify ourselves with the incontrovertible testimonies 
of men, qualified, by their professions, to depose in 
the premises ; as, for example, in regard to the effects 
produced in the body, concerning which Sir Astley 
Cooper says, " No person has a greater hostility ta 
dram-drinking, than myself, insomuch that I never 
suffer any ardent spirits in my house, thinking them 
evil spirits; and if the poor couki witness the white 


livers, the dropsies, the shattered nervous systems, 
which I have seen, as the consequences of drinking, 
they would be aware, that spirits and poisons were 
synonymous terms.'' 

Testimonies of this sort, from such men as Buchan, 
Rush, Sewall, and hundreds like them, have been 
presented so frequently to the public, and contradiction 
has been so boldly and repeatedly challenged, but 
never ventured, that the cause may be considered as 
standing on vantage ground. And the same may be 
said in respect to all the other pernicious consequences 
of the use of intoxicating drinks. Let us turn these 
facts to account in pushing on the victories of the 
cause, and securing its universal and permanent 
prosperity. Let old and young, male and female 
high and low, rich and poor, learned and rude, bond 
and free, enlist under the banner of Temperance. 
And, especially, all Christians and Christian ministers, 
take hold of the cause with spirit and vigor, remem- 
bering the apostolic injunction : " Ever follow that 
which is good, both among yourselves and to [among] 
all men." If you can make men sober by first making 
them Chris! ians, ply the instrumentalities of the gospel 
and make them Christians. If you cannot make men 
Christians without first making them sober, avail 
yourselves of the facilities which the Temperance cause 
affords to gain this poiut. And you can be zealously 
affected in this good thing, without being oblivious of 
the fact, that mere sobriety will not "save a soul from 


death," though it may "hide," or prevent, a "multitude 
of sins;" and that the best security of sobriety itself, 
as of every other virtue, is to be found in the renew^ing 
of the Holy Ghost, by which we may cleanse our- 
selves from all filthiness of the flesh and spirit, 
perfecting holiness in the fear of God. Christian men, 
engaged in the cause of Temperance, will not intermit 
their prayers for the sanctifying influence of divine 
grace, on the ground that they are employing agencies 
of human origination, which tend, in part, to a kindred 
result. They rather act on the principle, that none 
can ask too much at the hand of Heaven, if what they 
ask for, they labor to secure. By thus endeavoring 
to answer our own prayers, we manifest no indications 
of self-dependence, but rather of sincerity and con- 
fidence in divine grace; it being alike the dictate 
of reason and revelation, that God always helps them, 
who, trusting to his aid, do all in their power to help 



Professor hi the Medical University of Louisville / 

"There is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end 
thereof are the ways of death."— Prcv. xiv. 12. 

In the Bible, the word way, signifies both a road 
and a custom — habit, or course of life. The latter is the 
sense in which it is used, in the Divine maxim which I 
have quoted as a warning to temperate drinkers 

When we look into our own hearts, and into the 
conduct of those around us, we find that, morally, the 
human race may be divided into three great classes. 
First, Those who travel ways which they know to be 
wrong. Second, Those who travel ways which are 
pleasarit, or convenient, without inquiring, or caring 
where they end. Third, Those who travel ways which 
are wrono^, but seem right to them. 


Now, temperate drinker, in which of these classes 
do you place yourself? If you choose the first, you 
confess to a life of mingled crime and folly. In 
holding on, you sin against light and knowledge : you 
deliberately violate the moral law : you trample under 
foot the ties which bind you to family and friends : you 
wilfully forfeit ihe respect of society; and recklessly 
pursue a way, the end whereof you know to be " the 
ways of death," We can only say of you, as was said 
of old, " Ephraim is joined to his idols, let him 

Temperate drinker ! do you place yourself in the 
second class ? Do you drink without having estimated 
the character, or weighed the consequences, of your 
habit ] We say, then, that you are irrational and 
blame-worthy, for God has given you understanding, 
that you may discern good from evil, and you neglect 
to exercise it. You gratify your desires, as an animal 
indulges its appetites, without fear or forecast of the 
future : you make no distinction between right and 
wrong, which are both alike to you : and, leading a life 
of folly, if not of wickedness, you may, at last, die the 
death of a fool, if not of a criminal. He who could 
make you reflect, might reform and save you. We leave 
you, in the hope, that such a mentor may, at length, 
arouse you to thoughtfulness, and change your frivolous 
indifference into anxious and solemn meditation. 

Temperate drinker ! do yea range yourself in the 
thii'd class, whose members recoffnizo the difference 


between virtue and vice, w^isdom and folly, safety and 
danger 1 If you do, it is implied, that you have 
inquired into the character and tendency of temperate 
drinking, and regard it as harmless, if not necessary. 
Believing this conclusion to be a gi'eat and fatal error, 
we exhort you, and the numerous body, of which you 
are a member, to review the whole subject; and, in 
language not meant to be irreverent, we would say, 
" Come, let us reason together." 

If God had so formed our bodies, that tlie use of 
alcoholic drinks would be necessary, he would havo 
created them ; for, in wisdom, he has given us no 
wants, for which he has not provided the means of 
gratification. Thirst is met with water, and hunger 
with food, often prepared to our hands, and always 
exuting in the plants and animals around us, from 
which we only have to separate it. "We need and 
desire heat, and he has supplied us with both fire and 
fuel. We have an instinct for clothing, and he has 
caused cotton and flax to grow ; and surrounded us 
with animals, which aftbrd wool, and furs, and silk> and 
skins. Thus all our natural appetites, desires, and 
wants, are met and supplied, with appropriate natural 
productions, and we cannot increase or diminish the 
number of either We cannot establish a new sense, 
nor a new appetite \ nor can we create food, or fire, or 
fuel, or light, or the materials of our clothing, or the 
water, or air, necessary for the support of life. We, 
ourselves, and ■ ' 'be supporters and comforters of life. 


were planned, created, and adapted to each other, by 
the infinite and only source of being. 

Now, if alcohol had been necessary to the growth 
and well-being of our bodies, we should not only have 
been created with an instinct for it, as we have for 
water ; but, He who implanted such a desire, would 
have created alcohol to gratify it. Yet, no such 
creation is found among his works. He created sugar, 
but alcohol is formed by its destruction. Man has 
*' sought out for himself many inventions," and the 
most pernicious of the whole, is the transformation of a 
delicious production of the earth, into a baneful poison. 

That which is unnecessary to the growth and health 
of our bodies, cannot promote either ; nor even be 
taken by us, in considerable quantities, without injury. 
This is contrary to popular opinion, which holds, that 
many things, which are neither necessary, nor called 
for by our natural wants and desires, are, nevertheless, 
inert and harmless. This is a great and fatal error. 
Try, for yourself, temperate drinker, to think of 
something not necessary, which you may still use 
without injury, and you will fail; you will be compelled 
to acknowledge, that 1 have stated a true and universal 
law of man's nature. But, among unnecessary and 
innutricious articles, there is much diversity of effect. 
Some, as chalk and clay, are almost negative in their 
qualities, and offend chiefly by their bulk, or mechanical 
action. Others act as instantaneous poisons, if taken in 
large doses ; and do fatal mischief, when continued 


long, in smaller quantites. Alcohol belongs to this 

But, you may ask, if all this be true, why is it 
that men resort to alcoholic drinks 1 The question 
is a proper one, and we are bound to answer it. We 
admit, then, that we do not take any thing, but 
from appetite, desire, or some kind of motive ; and, 
therefore, that there must be, in the human constitution, 
some propensity, or demand, which leads to the con- 
sumption of alcoholic drinks. This, by many, has 
been confounded w^ith thirst; but thirst is for water 
only, and nothing else will satisfy it. If various kinds 
of beverages are, at times, substituted for it, they 
only satisfy our thirst, in proportion to the water 
they contain. Alcohol alone, so far from allaying, 
increases thirst; and is, therefore, taken from some 
other desire, than that which prompts to the use 
of water. That desire is not for alcohol, as it does 
not exist in nature, but for something — any thing — that 
will excite, or fire us up. This is a natural demand 
of our constitutions; and resembles hunger in this, 
that, while one prompts us to seek, among the 
productions of the^ earth, for whatever will nourish 
our bodies, the other prompts us to look abroad, 
for what will stimulate, and give them momentary 
activity. According to the harmony which exists 
in, and throughout, all the works of the Creator, he 
has amply supplied us with the means of this gratifi- 
cation ; and his supplies are the very best and safest. 


Thus, he has given us salt, and mustard, and the 
different peppers ; the various aromatics and spices, 
such as cloves and cinnamon ; to all Avhich, v^-e 
may add tea and coffee. These, and other naturoX 
productions of a like kind, are acceptable to our 
tastes ; salutary in their influences ; do not, in general, 
produce effects which lead to their excessive use ; 
and, iinalJy, if taken beyond the necessary limits, 
the consequence is, but a simple injury to health. 
Alas ! that man had not put up with what a bountiful 
Providence had created, and thrown broad cast around 
him. Alas ! that he should have substituted the 
productions of art, for those of nature — his own 
inventions, for the creations of God ! 

This substitution was, and is, the great error of 
the human race ; a source of calamities, crimes, and 
premature, or frightful death, with which no other 
can be compared. 

Temperate drinker ! you are one of those who 
have thus undertaken to mend the works of God. 
You, practically, call that which he pronounced 
" very good," not good, not sufficient, imperfect, and 
requiring to be improved, by feeble-minded and 
erring man. We call upon you to look at the 
enormity of your presumption — at the fatal effects 
of your habit upon your own happiness — at the 
influence of your example upon others. 

If the love of excitement first prompted, and con' 
tinues to prompt us to the use of alcoholic drinks, it 


cannot be doubted, that the example of every temperate 
drinker, beguiles others into the same habit. 

All the world feel and admit the power of fashion. 
We have a natural desire to imitate others. Every- 
day we conform to what happens to be in vogue, 
merely because it is in vogue. We adopt customs, 
because they are customary things ; and pursue them, 
because others lead us on. We see so many on 
the way before us, that, for no other reason, the 
" way seemeth right unto us ;" and so it may seem to 
diem, yet the end thereof, may lie in the regions of 

There is not a more dangerous rule of life, than 
to follow a thoughtless and giddy throng, without 
inquiring whither they are going — without looking 
into the propensities or desires which urge them on. 
If you are a young temperate drinker, let this truth 
sink deep into your heart ; and you will then study, 
carefully, the prudence and morality of your seniors 
in temperate drinking, and their way wall no longer 
seem right to you. If you aie an old temperate 
drinker, reflect, seriously, on the bad effects of your 
example on the young. Age claims respect from 
youth, and should, in return, bestow upon it the 
blessing of a good example — not the curse of a 
bad one. 

Alas ! how often this social law is violated ! When 

the time shall come, that the young will universally 

venerate the old; and the old, as universally, seek 


to guide the young, into the ways of wisdom^ 
which have ever been, and will ever be, the paths 
of pleasantness and peace; this dimmed and erring 
world of ours will put on a new face, and shine 
with a brighter lustre in the moral universe. 

But, young men begin temperate drinking, not 
merely from the desire of being excited, and a 
propensity to imitate others ; but, because the spiced 
and sugared draught is pleasant to the taste. In 
the moment of bodily pleasure, they forget to inquire, 
whether a slow poison may not be mingled with the 
delicious beverage. The mother of mankind found 
the forbidden fruit pleasant to her eye; and, down 
to the present hour, her posterity have been prone 
to believe, that what gives pleasure to their senses, 
is right and lawful. Thus it is, that our bodies impose 
upon our minds ; corrupt our moral sense ; and make 
a way seem right to us, when the " end thereof are 
the ways of death." 

Temperate drinker ! you continue to indulge, 
because the stimulus of alcohol excites your nervous 
system, and carries a pleasurable sensation throughout 
your body. You are slow to believe, that what 
gives you such feelings, can be pernicious. Your 
body acts upon, and stultifies your mind ; drives 
away the maxims of prudence and morality ; lulls 
you into a treacherous security ; and makes the way 
seem right to you, which others see will end in 
the " ways of death," Finally, you continue to 


drink, because you are uncomfortable without it. 
You are still deluded. You assume, that what 
removes your feelings of discomfort, cannot be wrong; 
forgetting, that, but for your previous drinking, the 
discomfort would not have existed. Its presence is, 
in fact, the first fruits of your excessive indulgence; 
and a conclusive proof, that you have been travelling 
on a dangerous way. You must, now, admit the 
fact, and yet, you may not depart from that way; 
for the body is a relentless tyrant, and, too often, 
lords it over the will. Your mind says, "I see the 
ways of death before me, I must stop — I must turn 
'">ack !" Your body, in mockery, answers, " Do it 
if you can ! I have led you thus far, and now 
defy your power! You have made yourself my 
slave, and shall obey ! What are your blighted 
expectations, your high, but withering aspirations, to 
me 1 I deal not in moral sentiments, or spiritual 
refinements : you talk of immortality; but I am 
mortal : you think of the joys, or pains, of a future 
life ; I think, only, of the pleasures of the present ! 
I despise your conscientiousness ; I laugh at your 
terrors ! When I might have been curbed, you 
were indifferent and silent ! When I might have 
been guided, you threw the reins on my neck, and 
left me to my own way. It then seemed right to 
you, merely because you refused to examine it. You 
now see it ending in the "ways of death;" but what 
IS that to me ? I live for the present, and care not 


Sir tiiG future 1 Detain me no longer j the hour for 
drinking has already past. 1 am weak and ti-emulous^ 
hand me the flowing bowl, and lei it wa&h away 
my wretchedness.'^ 

Such, ten>perate drinker f is the eiwJ of the way 
that seems right to you. If you would not reach it,. 
stop your drinking, in whatever stage yorj may be. 
If your system have not become habituated to it, 
your self-denial can give no pain; if so habituated^ 
that you are uncomfortable without the returning 
draught, stop instantly, and for ever, or you are 
lost ! No one becomes a drunkard in a day. He- 
passes through a regular apprenticeship of temperate 
drinking, loivrrer and more expensive than that which 
would have made him a good mechanic, physiciany 
lawyer, or divine ; and is, then, graduated to ruin, 
while otheis are graduated to respectability and 

Temperate drinking, the fruitful mother of drunken- 
ness, is a harlot, which peoples and pollutes the land 
with drunkards f and yet she sits at almost every fire- 
side ! Fotd and half naked m the rude cabin, painted 
and decked out with gaudy trappings in the splendid 
mansion, she accommodates herself to all conditions, 
and, like Satan, assumes all shapes. The world 
absurdly despises her offspring; while its eyes are 
dosed to the elements of pollution, which have their 
origin in her o^vn system. Oh ! that men would 
banish her from their habitations, and wash away 


her defilements with the pare water which God 
created for their use. 

Till she is thus banished, all legislation ; all societies 
and pledges ; all pulpit denunciation ; all private 
exhortation, counsel, and beseechings, will be labor 
lost. It is not drunkenness which should fix our 
attention; but its true and only cause — temperate 
drinking. This being renounced, the race of drunkards 
would become extinct. Oh ! temperate drinker ! think 
seriously of this, and depart, for ever, from that wayj, 
the end whereof " are the 7vays of deaihr 

The following narrative of a reformed drunkard, 
has so much in it that is instructive, that it seems 
worthy of publication. We recommend its careful 
perusal to all young men : — - 

Dr. Daniel Drake. 

Dear Sir: — Having known, for some years, that 
you were a worker in the Temperance cause, I take 
the liberty of addressing you on that subject. The 
time was, when, if I had written to you, it would 
have been in a very different spirit from that which 
now moves me — the spirit of resentment, instead of 
the spirit of gratitude to the friends of Temperance, 
and of praise to God, in which I would now desire 
to express myself. But I mast come to the point. 


1 am a native of Ohio, and now in my forty-second 
year. My whole life has been spent in the Miami 
country- — the first ten years in Cincinnati; tlie 
remainder in this town, where I have passed through 
many changes of fortune and character, and, at last, 
Btand in the community as a reformed drunkard. 

I propose to trouble you with a sketch of my life ; 
referring to the influences which allured me to intem- 
perance ; the joys and sorrows of that confused and 
desolate existence ; and the feelings which now dwell 
in my peaceful, but not remorseless heart. And, my 
dear sir, if you can, at any time, use what I may say, 
in such manner as to save or redeem even a sing-le 
person from the debasing and dreadful career through 
which I have passed, and on which I cannot look 
back without horror, I pray you, in conipassion to 
the sufferer, to do so. All I ask is, that you suppress 
my name and residence, lest (although I have much 
confidence in myself,) I should yield to the awful 
temptation, and, by returning, like the dog to his vomit, 
bring upon myself, and my at present happy furaily, 
a new contempt for my weakness. 

My father was a respectable mechanic, of temperate 
habits, though, according to the fashion of the times 
when I was a boy, accustomed to daily drinking 
before dinner, and, at last, before going to bed, and 
in the morning. Nevertheless, I never knew him to 
be intoxicated, although he lived to his sixty-fir^t year 
He was a moral man, but not religious. My mpthe|- 


was pious; and a more tender mother never nursetl 
and reared up a son to break her heart. The Lord 
forgive me — the Lord vouchsafe to support me under 
the agonizing remembrance of the sorrows I brought 
upon her, before her Heavenly Father, in pity, took 
her to himself. 

But I must go on with my narrative. I had 
no brother, and but one sister, who was younger than 
myself; but our ages were not so different but that 
we were school-fellows, when boys and girls attended 
the same schools, and playmates till I was fifteen, 
when my father placed me in a store, where I lodged, 
but, for several years, boarded at home. 

Up to this time I had never drank ardent spirits, 
except sometimes in the morning, when bitters were 
handed round. At that time, it was the fashion to 
keep the whiskey-bottle on a shelf, underneath ihe 
counter, for the use of customers from the country. 
Most of them were ready to drink whenever it was 
offered ; but some required urging, and as an example 
was regarded by ray employer more powerful than 
mere invitation, he not unfrequently drank, to induce 
them to do so. As I got older, and was often the 
principal, he being otherwise engaged, I 
began to supply his place at the whiskey-bottle, and 
had occasion, when numerous customers came, to resort 
to it several times a day. At first, it was rather 
disagreeable, and the iaste of whiskey and water alone, 
never got to be at all bewitching to me. I found, 


however, after a few months, that the warming and 
enlivening effects of what I took, were pleasant to my 
constitution, and that I became more talkative to 
customers, and frequently beguiled them into larger 
purchases than they at first intended. These effects 
led me to persevere, and by the end of the second year, 
from the time I began, I discovered that when we had 
but few customers, I felt weak and nervous, for want 
of what I had been in the habit of taking. To relieve 
myself, I then began to drink, occasionally, by myselfl 
This soon attracted the notice of my employer ; who, 
at length, admonished me on the subject ; telling me, 
that I should only drink when it was necessary to 
induce the country people to purchase liberally. 
Fearing to offend him, I resolved to limit myself to 
what he thought necessary to the success of his 
business; but I soon found, that during the forenoon 
of days in which we had but little country custom, 1 
was unfit for business ; and, if placed at the books, felt 
myself restless, my ideas wandering, and that I made 
mistakes in posting up accounts — in short, that the 
state of my body, when thus deprived of my usual 
stimulus, kept my mind constantly turned upon it. 
Then it was, that I, for the first time, thought of looking 
abroad for that indulgence which I was ashamed to 
seek in the store. 

I had become acquainted with several young 
gentlemen, clerks, and student s-at-law and physic, and 
ftad occasionally met them in the evening, at the two 


respectable (aias ! what a sad perversion of the term,) 
coffee-houses, which at that time, twenty-five years ago, 

were kept in . Several of these youths, most 

of whom were in the habit of drinking, were older 
than myself. They were my friends, and had great 
influence over me ; but, although I enjoyed their jokes, 
and convivial conversation, much of which, I must 
<:onfess, was vulgar, and sometimes licentious, I had 
not often drank with them. To one or the other of 
these drinking houses, I now thought it advisable, in 
4he forenoon, to repair^ but, as green venitian screens 
had not then been invented, I was obliged to be veiy 
circumspect— always passing the door before entering, 
and only going in through the day, when no one was 
there, or on the pavement in front. If caught there 
by one of my acquaintances, other than a young 
companion on the same errand, it was my custom 
to ask for some kind of confectionery, and go out 
without calling for the usual draught of whiskey and 
v^ater, and loaf-sugar. At that time, French brandy 
was not kept as it now is. In this way, I relieved 
myself of th« feelings I have described to you, so> 
effectually, that I drank but little in the store ; and my 
employer sometimes thought it necessary to urge 
greater drinking upon me, as a part of ray duty as a 
salesman. I found, however, the coffee-house drinking 
more palatable, and, as I often had business out, not 
inconvenient; and I therefore persisted in declining 
to drink often at the counter ; whereby, for a time, I 


got the reputation, with my employer and his friends, 
of being a remarkably temperate youth. How little did 
they know of the awful realities of my situation ! How 
little were they impressed on my oiv7i thoughtless heart I 
How little did I then think, that I was walking on the 
banks of the gulf of ruin l They were overhung 
with gay and blooming flowers, through which I did 
not discern the dark waters of death, that lay still and 
stagnant below ! 

My dear sir, I hope you will not be impatient, 
I will go on with my narrative as fast as possible. 
I have shown you how it was that my feet were 
placed on the path of intemperance ; and will, for 
a moment, ask your attention to some things which 
lie along that path. 

My father went, occasionally, to Church. — more to 
oblige my mother, than from any higher motive ; but 
she was a regular and conscientious visitor of the 
house of God ; and, as long as I lived constantly at 
home, I was, with ray sister, almost as constantly 
there. My employer and master was, however, a 
derider of Christianity, and generally spent several 
hours of every Sabbath day in his store and counting 
room — writing letters, mnldng out accounts, re-ar- 
ranging his goods, and folding, and wrapping them 
anew, so as to give, in some degree, the appearance 
to his shelves, of being supplied v/ith fiesh articles, 
where they were not. I had not been long with him* 
oefore I was requested to a?:i;'. Fur u tirna, l)(Mvever 


I continued at home on the Sabbath, and accompanied 
my mother and sister to Church ; but, at length, I 
began to stay about ihe store through the forenoon, 
and then to ride into the country, with my young 
companions, in the afternoon ; when we generally 
stopped, for an hour, to drink at a tavern, a few 
miles out of town. Still, I would commonly be at 
home by dark, so as to see my sister and mother 
to and from Church. A.nd how shall I ever forget 
her earnest and touching prayers, on our return, that 
God would guide and govern her only son, and 
protect him againat temptation, and preserve him 
from every vice, and make him a blessing to his 
parents in their old age. I felt all this, at the moment; 
and it seemed to me (as was probably the fact,) that 
she had a suspicion that all was not right with me. 
Nevertheless, one of the coffee-houses I have men- 
tioned was in the street which led to the store, and 
I commonly stopped there, and soon found every 
serious impression obliterated by the hour of drinking 
and carousal which followed, on my meeting with 
my companions, whose tastes and habits were no 
better — some, indeed, worse — than my own. Two or 
three years rolled away in this manner, towards the 
end of which -some of the older of my companions had 
become confirmed drunkards ; and I, myself, had often 
gone to the store, at midnight, in a state of intoxi- 
cation. I might relate many incidents of this period, 
but the limits of tliis letter will admit of but one. 


Returning, on a Sunday night, in this condition, 
I forgot to take the key from the door, when I 
unlocked it; but merely shut it after me; and having 
occasion (what, I could not remember,) to open the 
drawer in which we left our money, I went to sleep, 
without either it or the store being fastened. Being 
accustomed to awake early, I happily rose before 
my employer arrived; and, finding the state of things, 
put the door-key in its proper place, inside, and 
locked the drawer. In the course of the forenoon, 
however, my employer missed a hundred dollars, 
which had been wrapped up, and left there for 
a particular purpose, on Monday. He made an 
immediate appeal to me ; but I could give no explana- 
tion concerning it. "We had, together, put the money 
there, on Saturday night. At length, he charged 
me wdth a breach of trust, which I denied ; but the 
truth flashed on my mind — a thief must have entered, 
in the night, but I was afraid to acknowledge that 
I had left the door and drawer unlocked. In a 
passion, he left the store ; when, on examining the 
shelves, I found several valuable pieces of light goods 
taken away ; a fact, which, however, I concealed. 
When he returned, I still protested my innocence ; 
but proposed to replace the money he^ had lost, if 
he would not expose me. Being a friend of my 
father, he, at length, consented; but declared I must 
leave him. I told my pai'ents that I had had a 
difference with him and that I did not like to spend 


any part of my time in the store, on the Sabbath. 
The latter had great effect on my mother, and a 
new situation was found for me. 

But how was I to raise the hundi-ed dollars, 
twenty-five of which was to be paid every two 
months ? My wages were low ; and, between coffee- 
houses and rides in the country, I had expended all 
the little compensation I had received, up to that 
time ; and, what was still worse, prodigality had 
gi-own into a habit. At the end of the first month, 
I had not, on hand, more than five dollars. Then 
it was that I first began to be tempted in a new 
way. I had, hitherto, been honest, but had imposed 
a falsehood on my father and mother; and, I nov,- 
"believe, that he who has once done that, ha-s prepared 
himself for other crimes. 

My new employer was a pious and unsuspeclino- 
man, who worshipped at the same Church whh my 
mother ; and, from having often seen me there, as 
well as from his friendship for her, reposed unlimited 
confidence in me. Such a condition of things afforded 
opportunities for embezzlement, which, to one in 
my situation, \scre irresistible. True, I had many 
painful hours of hesitation, and often removed my 
agony by a|§6extra glass ; but, at length, my resolution 
was taken ; and, by daily setting aside small sum? 
from the receipts of the drawer, 1 was enabled, at 
the end of the first two months, to make my finst 
instalment to my late employer. The second was 


made up in the same manner ; but, fearing detection, 
I cast about for some other resoui'ce, and was not 
lono- in findino^ one. 

Eighteen months before, I had learned, at the coffee 
hou»es, to play cards, and had, occasionally, lost and 
won small sums. I had marked the most stupid and 
skilful of my companions, and determining not to play 
against the latter, I resolved to make up the remaining 
fifty dollars, if possible, from the former. Thus a new 
impulse was given to what was before a feeble 
propensity for the gaming table, and I soon found 
myself as devoted to it, as to the bar of the coffee 
house. In fact, they went hand in hand. 

My success was not, however, at first, very great; 
and when my third payment fell due, I was obliged in 
part, to make it up from my master's drawer. No part 
of the fourth, however, was drawn from him ; for, by 
this time, I was prepared for all the tricks of the card 
table, and, by cheating, was enabled to draw my fourth 
payment from my companions and friends. My 
punctuality revived the confidence of my old master, 
who presumed that I had earned and saved the 
v/hole, and who, therefore, spoke well of me ; which 
proved, for a time, to be of much service. I continued 
in this situation for nearly three yifeirs, at the 
end of which time my habits for drinking and gaming 
were confirmed ; but they were known to a few only, 
for I never became actually intoxicated, except with 
those of kindred habits, at a late hour of the night. 


I now succeeded in forming a kind of partnership 
with a gentleman who had lately emigi-ated to the 
place, and wished an experienced salesman. But, 
before I speak further, I must recur to my sister, and 
her melancholy fate. Several of my companions were 
accustomed to visit my father's house. At length, 
one of them addressed my sister, and partly through 
my recommendation and influence, she was induced to 
marry him. He had a little trading capital of his own, 
and set up a store. They went to house-keeping. My 
father became his endorser. Intemperance increased 
upon him, and his conduct to my sister became n::orose. 
He neglected his business, and, in a few years, my 
father was reduced to insolvency. He struggled on, 
but was broken in spirit, and worn out in con- 

At length, my sister, after being reduced to utter 
want, was subjected, by her husband, to brutal violence; 
from which she escaped, with two small children, to 
her father's poverty-stricken cabin, in the edge of 
the town. 

Soon after this, her husband fell into a dropsy of the 
breast, by whioh he was at length so reduced, that he 

could scarcely walk : and having no relatives in 

was taken im charge by the overseers of the poor. 
They placed him in the care of a low and vulgar 
family, the head of which (a keeper of one of the 
tippling houses he had frequented,) was dead from 
intemperance. The new^s of his pitiable situation soon 


reached my sister, who resolved to take him home, and- 
nurse him till he should recover or die. It was not 
long before he paid the melancholy debt, expiring 
suddenly and unexpectedly. The friends of my sister 
might have rejoiced at this event j, but, to their utter 
dismay, some of his profligate bottle companions 
insinuated, that she had been the cause of his death. 
A cruel slander, from which, however, all respectable 
persans tui'ned with lienor.: 

My sister's return, in such great desolation, and the 
introduction of her debased husband into our father's 
house, proved more than he could sustain, especially,. 
as J rendered him neither aid nor consolation ; and he- 
fell sick, and after lingering: several months, expired,^ 
leaving my mother and sister to provide for themselves 
and her children as they could. But I must return to 
my own history. 

Desirous of recommending myself to my partner^. 
I sought to conceal from hira all knowledge of my 
habits, andj under this motive restrained myself so far 
as to acquire the confidence of his family. The result 
of which was, that, at the end of two years, I married, 
his eldest daughter. This being accomplished, I felt 
as though the necessity for great restraint wa& 
diminished. I gradually began to indulge myself more 
freely, especially after we commenced house-keepings 
My wife soon discovered my habits, and was deeply 
afflicted ; but she had not the courage to speak out, oi 
I might have been restrained, &r I really loved her 


My vices, at length, became known to my father-in-law, 
who, being a prudent and determined man, dissolved 
my connection with him. A small amount of capital 
fell to ray share ; and I set up a grocery store, not 
having means sufficient for any other. My intemper- 
ance was soon, however, observed by the town ; and^ 
in a few years, its consequences were fully developed. 
My embarrassments had become overwhelming, and 
at length, my dwindling and insignificant business wa& 
entirely broken up. My family would now have 
wanted for bread, had not my wife's father, from time 
to time, supplied them. He urged her to return, but 
she positively refused. Indeed, she loved and pitied 
me, and often declared that she would live and die 
with me. I too, felt as if I could die for Iter ; and yet^ 
I daily drank deeper and deeper, returning late at 
night, invariably intoxicated. But it pleased God, in 
I'ie midst of all this brutality, to preserve me from 
• '■Tering her any violence. She is an accomplished 
woman, and resolved to make an effort to earn some- 
thing for herself, our little ones, and, as she added — for 
her Henry too! Oh, that such a woman should have 
been bound to such a man as I tlien was ! I pressed 
ray foul and bloated lips to her pallid cheek, dropped 
on it a tear of reraorse, and then retui'ned to the 
bottle ! 

Her first effort was to teach music, which, at the end 
of a year, she had to abandon, because, in my fits 
of intoxication, I would wander after her to the houses 


3f her scholars. Then she took up a school for little 
girls, which, for a couple of years, did well; but she had 
incessant anxieties at leaving our little children ; and, 
at length, one of them, in her absence, fell into the fire, 
and got so badly burnt, that it died in two days, with 
unutterable agony. 

From that hour she abandoned her school, and I 
resolved to abandon my drunkenness. I would not, 
however, do it suddenly. I feared the consequences. 
But I did hold up, so far, as to plan some kind of 
business. I had, however, neither capital nor credit ; 
and, after studying for a week, decided on that which 
requires neither capital or credit. I purchased, of a 
wholesale dealer in liquors a barrel of whiskey, which 
he sold me without security, on my telling him, that I 
was about to open a coffee-house, and would be a 
customer. My wife had a quantity of tumblers and 
decanters given her by her mother, which, conti'ary 
to her wishes, I transferred to a hovel rented for 
the purpose, and, obtaining a license on the 
certificate of a number of citizens, who desired to 
have a coffee-house near them, and whose signatures 
were procured by my landlord, I was soon installed 
behind my bar. 

My wife had no faith in this scheme, and, with tears, 
predicted that it would bring back my old habits. But 
in truth, they v/ere not gone ; and secretly, as I now 
know, my own cravings had their influence in 
l^rompting me to this course. 


She, herself, took a fai- better. Being a woman 
of taste, and skilful with her needle, she opened a 
small millinery ; and, having many respectable friends, 
was soon enabled to earn something for our supp(;rt. 
And it was well that she could, or we might have 
starved : for, exasperated at her clinging to me, her 
father had refused to render any further assistance ; 
and, although I had many customers, my receipts 
were but small. My old companions flocked around 
me, but they had little to pay, and I thought it unmanly 
to charge them. Several of those who had procured 
my license drank fre-ely, and said nothing of payment, 
which I was afraid to mention to them, lest they might 
not assist me in getting my license renewed; and a 
number of others, who ran up long accounts, at length 

At the end of the year I had gained nothing but 
the renewal of all my former habits ; and it was at 
one time feared, that my license would not be renewed. 
The poor-taxes of the township were, at that time, 
however, considered very heavy, and money was 
scarce, which made it desirable to license as many 
coffee-houses as possible ; and to the joy and surprise 
of myself and my standing customers, ray license 
was renewed. This was followed by a feeling of 
security as to the future, and an increased tendency 
to indulgence, in those who visited me most regularly ; 
the consequence of which was, deeper drinking on 
my part, followed, in a few months, by a shattered 


condition of my brain and nervous system. I lost 
my appetite, and trembled in the moraing so that I 
could scarcely walk to my coffee-house — could not 
sleep at night — heard, as I thought, crowds of persons 
round our little habitation — used to get up and place 
our chest against the door, and once concealed myself 
under the bed. 

Thus I went on for a few weeks, when I awoke, as 
it were, from a deep sleep, and found myself in jail, 
with my beloved wife kneeling over me, and wiping 
the sweat from my swollen and livid face. From her I 
learned the heart-rending intelligence, that I had been 
in a state of delirium for a week ! That she and 
some of my neighbors had, for a while, endeavored 
to keep me at home, but that I had broken away in 
the night, and rambled over the town; that I had 
eluded my kind pursuers, and, at midnight, broken 
into the house of my mother and sister, destroying 
much of the little furniture which their industry had 
collected; and that, the next day, I had been taken 
and carried to jail. The delirium having passed 
away, I was taken home, and thought of returning 
to my coffee-house; but my landlord had seized upon 
it for rent, and, as soon as he could obtain an execution, 

my stock was sold out. 

I must now, my dear sir, relate to you what my 

heart bleeds to write down. I would record it with 

tears of blood! My aged and heart-broken mother 

—she, by whose side I had kneeled for prayer in 


my boyhood — she, who had been proud to call me 
her son — she, who had once rested on me the hopes 
of coming years, and said to herself, " "When my 
husband and early companion is gone, should I outlive 
him, his son will be my support and protection." 
That mother, once so full of hope, and confidence, 
and prayer, could not stand up under my delirious 
visit. She never afterwards arose from the bed, but 
turned her eyes to heaven. The Saviour became her 
rod and her staif. She prayed to be gone; she 
prayed for me, and then prayed to be kept from 
even thinking of me — once the darling of her heart; 
she prayed to be permitted, soon, to descend into 
the valley and shadow of death ; and God, in mercy, 
heard this last mournful prayer. I was told of her 
situation, and sought to see her. At first, she refused ; 
then she relented ; the mother came up in her soul, 
and I was admitted. It was then the last hour ! 
She felt that the end was near ! Her face was 
serene ! She cast on me the look of a pitying angel ; 
at which my heart withered away ; a prayer, for my 
reformation, escaped her quivering lips, and she 

As she sunk into the grave, I arose from it — from 
the sepulchre of vice and corruption, in which I had 
been entombed ! My spirit broke the bonds with 
which the appetites of my body had so long bound it. 
I felt it triumph over my polluted -flesh. A new 
resolution started into existence, I felt as a m&vt 


creature ; and, henceforth, resolved to lead a new life> 
Secretly, I declared to God, that I would drink na 
more ; and that vow I have kept. It was not long, 
however, after this sorrowful event, before I felt a 
returning propensity, which I communicated to my 
beloved wife, and threw myself, as it were, on her 
protection. 1 avoided, by her advice, not less than 
my own taste, all my old companions. I cherished 
tho society of the few moral and religious friends, 
who liad kept around her and my sister, and my 
dear departed mother, I was induced to read the 
Bible, where I found words of wisdom, which recalled 
the early instructions of that mother, long unheeded 
and ibrgotten. T attended public worship, and 
encouraged the visits of the ministci^s of the gospel 
— a class of men, whom, for years, I had scorned and 
despised. Under this management of myself, the 
period of desire for strong drink returned more 
seldom ; and my powers of resistance were constantly 

At the end of the year, I was, as I humbly trust, 
a new man, in a sense of the word different from 
that in which I used it before. My heart, I hope, 
was regenerated ; I took delight in holy meditations, 
and united myself with the Church of Christ. 

My friends were all delighted ; their confidence in 
me was restored, and they came forward with offers 
ot assistance. By their aid, I commenced business, 
as a merchant, on a small scale, and was so successful 


as soon to place my family in a comfortable condition. 
My poor, devoted sister — the loving and confiding 
companion of my childhood — was still in poverty, 
and degraded from the rank w^hich she would 
have held in society, had I not introduced to her 
acquaintance one of my profligate associates. I 
have, however, ■ done for her what my limited means 
have permitted ; and her joy, at my reform, is so 
great, as to make her a happy woman. 

Permit rrie to add, that the employer from whom 
I purloined money, was afterward unsuccessful in 
business, and his family became poor. This afforded 
me an opportunity of returning what I had taken. 
As one who had received benefits from their father, 
I have, in presents, already done it ; and if I should 
be prosperous in business, I intend to keep on, until 
I have restored four fold. 

My dear Sir — I wish you could see my happy 
family, in the midst of which I am writing this sketch , 
I have four interesting children, and the best — the 
most joyous of wives. I feel that God is with us, and 
that we are safe. I feel like one who has escaped — • 
not to speak irreverently — from hell to heaven. Oh 
that I could carry home to every intemperate man the 
conviction, that he might reform, if he would ! 
Above all, I would warn every young man of the 
error of m7/ ways, and conjure him, by the love he 
bears his father and mother, his brothers and sisters, 
his own soul, his God, to avoid those temptations, and 


that society wliich brought me into those dark regions 
of moral desolation and death, from which I was 
redeemed by events the most appalling, and upon 
which I cannot even now look back without pangs of 
remorse and shame. 

I am, Dear Sir, most respectfully, 

Your obedient servant, 

H. M. 





P. G. W. A. of Kentucky. 

The ancient civilization — the civilization of Greece 

and Rome — made the State every thing, and the 

man, the individual, comparatively nothing, except 

as an element and component of the State. Hence, 

the great object of education, in the olden time, v^ras 

to make citizens, rather than men. The Christian 

civilization makes the man all, and the State nothing, 

except as a helper of manhood, a developer of 

humanity. One great truth vv^hich the Saviour desired 

to embody in the world, is, that society should have 

its institutions so shaped and moulded, and breathing 

such a spirit, that it would prove a stumbling-block and 

offence to none, but a benefactor and friend to all. 


This is the noble idea of the Christian malizatioR, 
in the eye of which, a single immortal soul, though 
inhabiting the humblest tenement of clay, is of 
more value than all the apparatus and machinery 
of government, than all merely national glory; and 
this idea, having been sent forth on its grand mission, 
has never ceased from its divine work* Starting 
on its errand of love, from the sacred soil ot 
Palestine, it has gone from land to land, and from 
age to age, seeking an entrance into all living hearts, 
and leaving a benediction wherever welcomed. You 
c^n trace its progress from clime to clime, during 
the long lapse of ages ; for it has gone, like an 
angel of heaven, shedding celestial fragrance from 
its wings ; and verdure, as of Paradise, shows where 
its foot-print hath fallen. 

From this idea, this living principle, have sprung 
the various efforts to ameliorate the condition of 
society, which have characterized the Christian age. 
To its powerful influence do we owe the establishment 
of public schools ; that most interesting and expressive 
recognition, by the State, of the duty of providing 
opportunities, and means of improvement and develop- 
ment, for all minds. To its influence we owe the 
establishment of Sunday Schools, which, to a spiritual 
mind, is, perhaps, the most interesting feature of 
tnodern society ; showing, as it does, clearly and 
strikingly, that the Christian world has begun to 
enter into the Saviour's feelino:s of tenderness and 


care for childhood, and to feel and acknowledge the 
duty of throwing around it a protecting arm, and 
of winning its heart, while yet the dew of life's 
mom is upon it, to the love and service of God. 
To this living principle we owe the missionary 
enterprise ; that glorious acknowledgment of human 
brotherhood — that declaration, more eloquent than 
the burning words in which genius sends forth its 
breathing thoughts, that the human heart, though it 
beat far, far beyond the wild waste of waters, and 
under the triple folds of ignorance, degradation, and 
vice, is a brother's heart; and, as such, is entitled 
to a brother's sympathy, and the richest treasures 
of a brother's love. 

In these, and many other forms, we have a 
manifestation of the glorious idea of Christianity, 
that the promotion of the highest welfare of man, 
the individual man, should be the grand purpose 
of all social institutions; that the State should be 
so moulded and directed, that all its influences 
shall be helpful to man; and that society, becoming 
thoroughly Christianized, should have the image 
of Christ stamped upon its heart, as well as 
worn upon its neck; so that the young, when they 
enter upon life's active scenes, instead of finding 
themselves in the midst of fearful perils and innu- 
merable foes, shall behold the smiling faces, and 
feel the warm pressure of the hand of Christian 


This is the idea, the living principle, which gave 
birth to the Temperance enterprise; which is, 
emphatically, a Christian enterprise; which was 
begun by Christian men— men of enlarged pati'iotisra 
and genuine philanthropy; who, with hearts filled 
with Christian love, and minds made clear by 
Christian light, were quick to discern the great truth 
of human brotherhood, and who determined, with the 
help of God, to do all that in them lay, to make 
society a friend, benefactor, guardian, and parent 
of alh 

This movement was not intended to interfere with 
the peculiar work of the Church ; the Temperance 
organizations were not designed to take the place 
of the Church, but to aid in the application to life 
of the great principles entrusted to the Church for 
the regeneration of the world. It surely cannot be 
necessary to add words, to show that the Temperance 
reformation is a Christian movement; that, in the 
language of one of America's noblest minds, "the 
sympathy with the fallen, the guilty, the miserable, 
which it indicates, ia inherited from Jesus Christ ; 
that wo have caught it from his lips, his life, his cross, 
and, were we to trace its origin, it would carry us 
back to Bethlehem and Calvary." 

As the Temperance movement is a Christian 
work, so is it in harmony with the spirit of the 
age as manifested in the great enterprises of th» 


The age is characterized by mental activity, and 
far-reaching thought. Behold the indications in the 
rail-roads, which, making nought of mountain barriers 
and yawning chasms, are linking, with iron bands, 
the most remote parts of the Union, over which, as 
has been beautifully said, the engine, an iron shuttle 
passing to and fro, is weaving a web of interest and 
aiFection, which shall make disunion impossible ; in 
the telegraphic wire, on which the invisible messenger, 
borne on lightning wings, is carrying the messages 
of business and kindness, and, as he darts from pole 
to pole, annihilating time and distance ; in the magnifi- 
cent discoveries in the world of science, by which the 
existence of a new planet is disclosed, and the very 
point in space indicated, to which the astronomer is 
to direct his telescopic eye ; in these, and countless 
other instances, we have illustrations of the mental 
activity and far-reaching thought of the age. And 
certainly, with the spirit of the age, as thus manifested, 
the Temperance movement is in perfect harmony ; 
for, is it not one of its great objects, to throw off the 
fetters of vice which have bound the mind to earth, 
and enable it to roam at will through the world 
of thought, and to clear its eye from the mists of 
sensuality, that, with eagle vision, it may range through 
the realms of truth ! 

The spirit of the age is a humane spirit. It seeks to 
relieve, to reform, to educate. Under pure Christian 
impulse, it sends forth missionaries to foreign lands, 


The genius of Temperance, beholding and admiring 
the grandeur of the work, and reverencing the spirit 
which prompts men to engage in it, but clearly seeing 
that it is of comparatively little avail for the vessel 
to carry out missionaries in her cabin, while she carries 
rum in her hold, and drunken, licentious sailors in her 
forecastle, comes forward, as the humble handmaid 
of religion, and seeks to reform the merchant who 
loads, the sailor who works, and the captain who 
commands the vessel ; that the voice from the fore- 
castle, the quarter-deck, and the hold, may be in unison 
with the voice from the cabin ; that commerce may thus 
go hand in hand with Christianity in civilizing and 
blessing the world. 

The spirit of the age builds school-houses, that 
intellect may be quickened into activity, and enriched 
with knowledge. The genius of temperance, seeing 
that it is of little avail to provide means of improve- 
ment, unless the young have minds and time to avail 
themselves of the means provided, would reform the 
intemperate parent, and save the temperate parent 
from becoming intemperate; that children may not bring 
into the world, feeble and idiotic minds, and tendencies 
almost irresistible to dissipation and vice, or inherit a 
heritage of poverty, which dooms them to ceaseless 
toil, and hopeless ignorance. The inherited tendencies 
and propensities of intemperance, form a terrible chap- 
ter in the history of this vice, a chapter not yet written, 
but which, we may rest assured, will, at some time, bg 



written, and with a pen of fire ; and tne writing wil. 
appal the hearts of all who look upon il, as the heart 
of the revelling monarch of old was appalled, by the 
hand writing upon his palace wall 

The spirit of the age builds hospitals for the insane, 
and provides houses for the homeless poor, and asylums 
for the lonely orphan, and seeks to convert prisons into 
schools of reform. The genius of temperance looks 
on with joy, reverence, and gratitude, and asks the 
privilege of assisting benevolence in her noble work. 
She engages in the work with earnestness. She goes 
to the hospital, and listens to the wail of insanity, and 
learns, from the incoherent utterances, that more than 
half of its inmates were driven there by intemperance. 
She visits the almshouse, and hears the aged widow, a 
dependent upon the hand and heart of charity, speak 
with trembling voice of a home, once dear and beautiful, 
always dear and beautiful, until intemperance, having, 
with ruthless hand, torn down the vine which had 
entwined itself around and over the lowly cottage-door, 
to shed its fragrance upon every visitor, sweetly 
emblematic of the tender vines of affection, which 
made all fragrant and beautiful within, sent its once 
happy inmates, in destitution and wretchedness, to find 
sustenance at the hand of strangers. 

She visits the asylum, and, taking the orphan 
tenderly to her bosom, asks her about her departed 
parents. The eye of the fatherless and molherless one, 
fills with tears, and her heart swells almost to breaking, 


as she tries to say, but cannot say, that her parents 
died from intemperance. 

She goes to the prison-cell, and talks with the young 
man, young in years, though grey-headed in crime, 
and asks him of his early home. The heart is not yet 
a complete desert, but has one spot of verdure, one 
oasis of tenderness. The criminal tells of a mother, 
whose image is yet enshrined in his memory, who died 
while he was but a child, died of broken heart, and 
left him the victim of a drunken father's waywardness 
and sin. 

She asks no more. She sees that her work is to 
dry up the great source of poverty, insanity, and crime, 
and that, in accomplishing, or, at least, in endeavoring 
to accomplish this work, she lends the most efficient 
aid to Christian benevolence. 

It cannot be necessary to add any thing more upon 
this point. Obvious enough is it, that the temperance 
movement harmonizes with all the great movements 
of the age, and that its influence is essential to their 
success. It is in harmony with all of man's great 
interests, his intellectual, social, and religious interests. 
The day has gone by, in which studied arguments were 
necessary to show the high character, and gi'eat impor- 
tance of the temperance cause. The man who does 
not feel its importance, cannot have reflected upon it, 
for it is as evident as the beauty of the universe. Yet, 
glorious as the universe is, there are men who go from 
the cradle to the grave, and, because they have not 


been taught to observe, see no beauty in this great 
panorama, although painted by the Creator's own 
hand, and having his name inscribed upon it in 
characters of living light. So there are men, who will 
have a grand moral entei-prise spread out before them 
for months and years, and, for want of a little reflec- 
tion, feel not its importance, though its importance be 
unutterably great, and, though its success would throw 
beauty and glory over myriads of hearts and homes. 

Or, if there are any who, having reflected, yet do 
not feel its importance, it must be because they are 
blinded by some selfish interest. A hillock of earth 
can hide from view the mighty sun, and the hand placed 
before the eye can shut out the evening star, though it 
be a world, and a world of beauty; so some little 
worldly interest can shut out from view a great 
humane, moral cause, though it shine with radiance, 
like that of the noon-day sun, or beam with light, soft 
ajid beautifiil as the light of the star of evening. 

If a cause, which originated in the purest spirit of 
Ohristian benevolence, which harmonizes with all the 
great interests of society, which aims to relieve human 
woe, and increase human happiness, does not com- 
mend itself to the patriot, the philanthropist, and the 
Christian, what cause is worthy of their regard 1 

No one, with mind capable of discerning truth, and 

iieart alive to the beauty and grandeur of moral 

heroism, can doubt, that the cause of temperance ia 

the cause of humanity, the cause of God. Nor can 



Buch a cause die. Particular organizations may pass 
away, but the cause must live. With the blessing of 
Almighty Gocl, it must go on, conquering, and to 
conquer, until it shall have obtained a complete and 
endurmg triamph. 

In the accomplishment of the grand result, so dear 
to every human heart, the Order of the Sons of Tem- 
perance has proved, and, we doubt not, is destined yet 
to prove, an interesting and elHcient instrumentality. 
This institution harmonizes with the great principles 
of Christian charity and brother-hood, with which the 
cause of temperance is identified, and it is nobly 
adapted to produce the result towards which all true- 
hearted temperance efforts have been directed. There 
is nothing sectional, or sectarian in its spirit. That 
spirit is broad, generous, comprehensive, national. It 
recognizes and brings into bold relief the grand truth, 
to which the great heart of mankind responds, that 
man is bound, solemnly, and for ever bound, to 
care for his brother man. It proclaims, in thrilling 
tones, the noble principle which, from the time when 
Christianity began her divine mission, has sought 
admission into all hearts, and which now finds many 
faithful exponents in all lands, that human welfare is to 
be advanced, and secured, not by the cold isolatiou 
of individualism, nor by the sharp antagonism of selfish 
competition; but, by cordial co-operation, and Christian 
union. It proclaims also, through its services, rich in 
scriptural lango^g?, and ppr-rar^ed by a religicu? spirit, 


the all-important principle, that the temperance cause 
must I'est upon religion as its firm and enduring foun- 
dation, and always be sanctified by religion's pure spirit. 
Great, inestimable, is the good which this organi- 
zation has effected. A glorious work is yet .before 
it. Long may it live. Faithful may its friends 
prove J and if, at last, having fulfilled its mission, 
and having proved faithful to its high ideal, and its 
noble opportunities of usefulness, it shall be numbered 
among the things that were, may its spirit live in 
some new organization, which shall prove even more 
efficient and successful in carrying on the great work 
to its final consummation. The triumph of temperance ! 
This is the end which all her earnest friends propose 
to themselves. This is the end, dear alike to humanity 
and Christianity ; and, if this end be accomplished, 
however and whenever it may be accomplished, 
provided only it be done openly and worthily, every 
Son and Daughter of Temperance will rejoice. For 
this end let us all labor, each in the way which, to 
him, seems wisest and best. In regard to means 
of action, the friends of Temperance may honestly 
differ; but, in one thing, let us all agree. Of one 
thing let us all make sure, that act we may, and 
act we will, in some way, earnestly, efficiently, 
constantly. We have enlisted, not for a summer 
campaign, but for the war; and we cannot expect to 
lay aside our arms, until death gives us our papers of 
discharge from all the duties and conflicts of life. , 


Of Mcrysville, Kentucky. 

In less liberal governments, whatever conceins the 
general weal, becomes, by established precedent, as 
well as common consent, the business of the privileged 
orders; but, in a country like ours, where the people 
hold the reins of power, and the rights f)f all classes 
are duly respected, the popular voice in the primary 
assemblies, or uttered by their representatives, wisely 
chosen, determines the course of action. 

And who, among us, in casting the eye over the 
far-spreading population of this mighty continent, 
dees not feel a becoming pride, as he counts the 
number of our growing cities, the extent of our trade, 
the progress of manufactures, and the increase of 
Gur commerce. But a iem years have rolled away 
since the struggle of the fathers; and, already, has 
the unparalleled prosperity of our lieaven-favoured 
country, excited the admiration of the civilized 


In the origin and formation of the civil govern- 
ment with which God has blest us, in the development 
of its fair proportions and finely balanced machinery, 
is seen, at once, the benevolence of a superintending 
Deity, and the wisdom of the greatest men, guided 
by the unerring Providence of Him who sitteth upon 
the circle of the heavens, in whose hands are the 
issues of life, and without whose knowledge not a 
sparrow shall fall to the ground. Nor should we 
forget, while we continue a free and happy people, 
the accumulating clouds of disaster and oppression, 
or the galling chain intended to be imposed upon us 
by a deluded potentate and his infatuated ministry. 
For many long and tedious years, the hope of 
reconciliation was fondly cherished ; but the narrow 
circle of light gradually became more and more 
circumscribed, until a nation's presumptions reached 
the point of disaster, and conviction, almost at the same 
moment, flashed upon the minds of three millions of 
people, that the dilemma in which they were involved, 
was one of slavery or war. 

There is, indeed, much in the circumstances of 
our final disenthrallment, to convince the reflecting 
mind, that it was the design of the All-wise Ruler 
to deliver the colonies from the oppressions of a 
foreign power, and make them instrumental in the 
political emancipation of the world. And, whether 
we contemplate the magnitude of power, against 
which our fathers pledged their lives, their fortunes, 


and their sacred honor ; or the peculiar' relations of 
the European States, at the moment of disjunction ; 
or the scanty resources of the colonies themselves ; 
or the noble and generous spirit which impelled 
their armies to the field ; or the destitute condition 
of our untaught soldiery ; the conviction seems equally 
irresistible, that a new era in the history of nations 
was about to be developed. That principle, which 
is the hope of the faithful in the darkest hour, is 
now the well-spring of a nation's gi'atitude and joy. 
Durs is now a country, rich in every variety of 
resource; our international policy extends to every 
civilized court ; while the industry and energy of 
our citizens, has covered the continent with towns 
and cities, and the ocean with our commerce. And 
if we add to these, an extent of territory sufficient 
for the energies of a mighty people ; an extent of 
inland navigation, to which the civilized world aifords 
no parallel, and compassing resources adapted to 
peace or war ; a citizezi soldiery, available at the 
shortest notice, and equal to any emergency ; and 
the stars and stripes, proclaiming protection to the 
oppressed, and " freedom to worship God ;" we may 
well give utterance to the gratitude of a free people, 
in the language of the inspired penm3n, " Hallelujah ! 
the Lord G(»d omnipotent reig^neth." 

It was long a fruitful source of speculation, whether 
the newly constituted States would be able to maintain 
their associated integritv. The doctrine of the world 


was, that the people were incompetent to govern 
themselves; and the new republic, consequently, ir 
her political and religious adjustments, became the 
theme of accumulated controversy and conjectural 
speculation, both at home and abroad. Nearly a 
century has flown upon the wings of time, since 
"the days that tried men's souls;" and, if we mistake 
not, experience has fully shown, that we have far 
less to fear from the intrinsic nature of our institutions, 
than from the incorporation of foreign bigotries and 
dogmatisms, into the peculiarities of our civil polityo. 
The substrative principles of civil jurrsprudence must, 
necessarily, be the same in all countries, where th& 
rights of the people are respected, even in an ordinary 
degree. The statutory provisions of our country, 
however, may widely differ from those of another j 
and a single feature of national polity, may be sufficient 
to determine a difference in the appliance of law 
for the protection of the rights and interests of alL 
Durino" the colonial era, the laws of the parent 
state, and those of the colonies, were essentially the 
same j and when the act of separation took effect, 
most of the statutes in use, previously, remained sub- 
stantially the same still. These, considering the age 
in which they v^ere originated, and the peculiarities 
of monarchical polity, were, of course, very imper- 
fect, when used in the application of a more popular 
scheme of civil jurisprudence. The fires of the 
reformation had not yet sufficiently purified the 


world's political atmosphere ; and the true theoiy 
of civil government was still unevolved. Besides, 
the naturally plodding gait of the human mind, 
in adopting newly developed truths, very readily 
accounts for the adoption of legal principles not 
well understood. The moral progress of society, 
moreover, must be expected to discover defects in 
civil jurisprudence, never before fully fathomed. 

This view of the historical facts, and the reasons 
for them, will, when thoroughly developed, reveal 
the origin of a system of License Laws in these 
United States, regulating the sale and use of ardent 
spirits, that has caused, in our country, a greatei 
sacrifice of human life and happiness, than war, 
pestilence, and famine, combined. The moral, intel- 
lectual, and physical progress of the American States, 
has fixed the admiration of the world ; and the 
causes which threaten the defeat of our experiment 
of civil liberty, though potent in character, are 
believed to be few and far between. It has always 
been the worlds misfortune, that men discover and 
receive essential truths very slowly, indeed ; and the 
transit of a nation from one form of government to 
another, whatever tlie prospect of ultimate success, 
must, consequently, be attended with present risk 
and disadvantage. In most minds, there is often 
perceptible, a tenacity for things antique ; and the 
antiquity itself, is frequently the means of perpetuity 
to ar error, that has nothing- else to cominend it to 


popular regard. Hence it is, that maxims, generally 
received, and undoubted in point of truth, however 
erroneous in fact, often hold the way against a sound 
theory, and require years to wear them away. 

It is to the consideration of an error of this 
description, that we invite attention ; an error, not 
less humiliating to our national pride, than fraught 
w^ith mischief to the country. Hitherto, the friends 
of temperance, it is feared, have directed their efforts 
against the 'practice of intemperance, without sufficiently 
regarding the source of mischief and complaint. The 
philanthropist has, consequently, been doomed to 
witness the steady progress of intemperance, unable, 
by the policy adopted, to reach the fell source of 
his country's wrongs. A vague and indefinite notion, 
as to the indispensibility, or, at least, usefulness, of 
daily potations of ardent spirits, still lingered among 
the masses, and even the religious : and, not until 
about the year 1840, was the doctrine general, 
among the abstemious, that total ahandonment afforded 
the only ground of hope. The second pledge 
gave evidence of the advance of truth; and, very 
soon, thousands were marshalled imder the banners 
of a total ahstinen-ce that promised to revolutionize the 

But here, again, the friends of humanity were doomed 
to a severe trial of their hopes. It was soon seen that 
Wasliingtonism, however well calculated to answer 
the general wants, and check the growing evil for a 


time, needed something more than had yei been 
evolved, to strike the public mind favorably, give 
precision of aim to the general plan, and beard the 
monster in his strong hold. Societies were easily 
formed during a season of excitement, but disappeared 
as easily, for vi^ant of fixedness of purpose, and well 
defined and united action. " Festina lente " was still 
the policy of the state, and the enemy to be confronted 
seemed enshrined in the affections of the law-making 
power; and thus sustained, by those whose only rational 
duty it can be to protect the people, was found more 
than a match for those who opposed his accursed reign. 
It was also discovered, that, in order to save the 
drinker, it was necessary to transfer him from the 
socialities of the bar-room, to the socialities of the 
Division room, where he might be supported by the 
greetings of friends, and cheered on in the terrible 
struggle with inordinate appetite. In short, something 
in the form of a popular association was seen to be 
necessary to the salvation of the inebriate — a centre 
of motion, involving fixed principles of conservatism 
and endurance. An institution, further, conferring 
equal rights and privileges upon all ; and, dispensing 
with the ordinary conventionalisms of society, estab- 
lish sobriety and moral virtue, as the only true 
test of respectability and character; where religious 
and political sectarianisms should be unknown, and 
where all might unite in the regeneration of 


Such an institution is that known as, " The Sons of 
Temperance ;" and however sanguine its enemies may 
have been in pronouncing upon its ephemeral exist- 
ence, we claim for it a prospective perpetuity, that 
shall tell upon the world with greater moral power, 
and upon ecclesiastical and civil establishments with 
higher purifying efficacy, than any temperance move- 
ment that has preceded it. Here may the friends of 
philantliropy and moral reform, disentangled from all 
other objects than \)ia.t of a thorough and permanent 
temperance reforination, act upon the moral phase of 
society, with the genial influence of a vernal sun upon 
the rising vegetation of spring ; and upon legislative 
bodies, and licensing establishments, with the sweeping 
power of a summer tornado. By this mighty lever, 
the war may be carried into the enemy's country, and 
those who neglect to listen to the pleading voice of 
suffering humanity, be compelled to hear the thunder- 
toned utterances of a people determined to be free. 

It is believed, as has been intimated, that the 
principle cause of the prevalence of intemperance, 
and that by which it is made respectable, both to vend 
and use intoxicating drinks, is the perpetuity of a 
" License System,''^ in the support of Vvhich the repre- 
sentatives of the people, in legislating money into the 
Treasury, have bartered away the peace and morals 
Z)f society, and, in numerous instances, the religion 
of the country. If this view of the case be a correct 
Wie, the cure of the evil consists in the abrogation 


of legislative enactments, fraught with such direful 
consequences to the masses. And, in order to demon- 
sti'ate the assumption as satisfactorily as possible, we 
beg leave to submit the following proposition, and 
respectfully invite attention to a few arguments in 
support of it. 

Proposition.— The License Law, regulating the sale 
of ardent spirits in the State of Kentucky, is, in its 
practical operation, detrimental to the peace, safety, 
and prosperity of the people of this commonwealth, 
and ought, therefore, to be abolished. 

We do not enter upon this discussion unadvisedly, 
nor are we prepared to charge the law-making power 
foolishly. We are equally aware, that the chief 
prejudice has long existed in force against those 
who make and sell, without sufficiently recollecting, 
that, those who do so, act in accordance with law, and 
that we ourselves, are, in fact, the authors of a hated 
indulgence, while v/e pass a sweeping condemnation 
upon all who buy the privilege at our own hands. It 
is of no consequence that we lavish our denunciations 
upon the retailer, and our sympathies upon a suffering 
community, while the laws authorizing the trade are 
in force. If the habitual drinking of spirits is wrono-, 
then the law authorizing it is wrong; and the only 
probable remedy is to be sought in abolishing the 
license system altogether, or substituting such enact- 
ments as shall protect the interests of the people. 


TPiat we may not misdirect the argument, it will be 
necessary, in the first place, to glance at a few 
established principles, which lie at the basis of oivil 
government, as an mstitution inten,ded to protect the 
interests of its subjects. 

Political society necessarily involves civil govern- 
ment, and government implies restraint. It is requisite, 
therefore, to inquire, in how far our natural freedom 
is relinquished when we enter into civil society. The 
advantages which civil power can procure to a 
community, are partial only, as only a part is included 
within the reach of its movements. If it be a rational 
institution, then is it such an one as rational men 
would adopt to secure its benefits: and it must 
be clear, that no greater sacrifice of national rights 
is included, than is strictly necessary to the attain- 
ment of its objects. If we inquire into the reasons 
of political society, the answer is, to guard against 
the injuries of others ; for, in the absence of all 
injustice, no protection or government would be 
necessary. The attainment of all the good possible, 
then, is not the object of law, but security against 
wrong. Civil restraints imply nothing more than a 
surrender of our liberty, in some respects, for the 
purpose of securing its exercise in some other respects 
of higher importance. Thus, we surrender the liberty 
of punishing injuries received, only to secure the 
agency of law in securing justice for us. Government, 
then, has a epecific end, as it implies the eurrender 


of SO much national right or freedom, as is necessary 
to secure its object. 

The power to exei'cise government is, by national 
right, in the people ; but, for the sake of convenience, 
is, by mutual consent, transferred to their represen- 
tatives; and the only rational objects of government, 
so exercised, is the mutual protection and consequent 
safety of society. Special enactments, it is true, may, 
and ought, to be granted by the law-making power, 
for the benefit, either of individuals or classes, provided 
that the rights and interests of the whole shall thereby 
be promoted, or, at least, not unsettled by such 
enactments and privileges granted to a part; or the 
State sufficiently compensated by the applying party 
for privileges so secured. But, it is equally true, that 
no man acquires the right to enact deleterious laws by 
entering into civil society ; and it follows, of conse- 
quence, that no class of men acquire the same right, 
by the erection of civil government. For, as no man 
can possess the right in his individual character to 
injure others, so no man, or men, acting solely with a 
view to the general good, obtain the right to injure 
those, or even a part of those for whom they act. The 
conclusion, hence, is inevitable, that the legislative 
power, acting within these limitations, can never justly, 
and by special enactment for that purpose, confer upon 
a few the privilege of merchandise and trade, in an 
article jeopardizing the pecuniary and moral interests 
of all other parts of the communifcy. 


Now, if these principles be correct, as stated 
— and we feel assured they cannot be denied — then, 
it only remains for us to show, that the License 
System, is injurious to society, in order to prove, 
that the legalized traffic in ardent spirits is founded 
in injustice and wrong 

First. We base our first argument, in support 
of the proposition advanced, upon the fact, that the 
retail of spirituous liquors decreases the national wealth. 
The wealth of a nation consists in the wealth of its 
citizens. Its only sources are labor, land, and capital. 
The last of these, is the product of the two former; 
but, as it may be used to increase their value, it is 
considered, by writers on political economy, as one 
of the original sources of wealth. Capital is only 
capable of employment, in two ways — either to 
produce new capital, or for purposes of gi-atification. 
If consumed for the latter, it is called expenditure; 
while the first is denominated capital. These, neces- 
earily, bear an inverse proportion to each other ; 
and, if the first be small, the last is correspondingly 
large. In other words, capital is capable of increase, 
by decrease of expenditure, and of decrease, by 
increase of expenditure. 

Now, if we apply this principle to the case con- 
sidered, we have a clear exhibition of the practical 
application of political economists ,• showing, conclu- 
sively, that all who use ardent spirits, as a beverage, 
contribute daily to the poverty of the commonwealth, 


A man, for example, purchases a quantity of ardent 
spirits, which he uses in the usual way, and under 
circumstances that render it useless, and even hurtful ; 
it is certain, that, to him, it is an entire loss. The 
retailer may have secured his profit, and the whole- 
sale dealer may have been equally successful ; but the 
consumer loses the whole amount — cost, profit, and 
time consumed in procuring and drinking it. The 
State loses, by the injury inflicted on his capital, 
mind, and body, and the demoralization of his family, 
and the immediate community in which he moves. 
His land becomes unproductive, for want of attention; 
the capital produced by his land and labor, is 
diminished ; and, by the perpetuity of the process, 
the means of future reproduction is also cut off. 
The expenditure increases by the increase of appetite, 
and the unproductiveness of his farm and capital 
increases in the ratio of the rapidity with which the 
process advances, whether with greater or less speed; 
and ruin to himself, and certain loss to the State, 
are the unavoidable consequences. 

The demonstrative proof is familiar to every one ; 
and every member of society must have seen the 
living exhibition of the facts, passing under his notice, 
again and again. How many of those who have 
been engaged in vending alcoholic drinks, have 
become hopeless inebriates ; and how many children 
and friends have been involved in the same manner? 
How many estates reduced to the most utter and 


Unavoidable bankruptcy 1 We have seen the youthful, 
as v^ell as aged, member of the bar, whose talents 
Vi^ere the hope of the country, and the pride of 
friends, debased and ruined by the brutal practice 
of intoxication ; brought about by friendships and 
associations, which, but for the commonness and 
credibility of the evil, would have purified the life, 
and greatly elevated the professional and social 

The physician, too, who, in his toilsome incipiency 
to professional eminence, was taught to dread the 
influence of alcoholic drinks, and who, in his sober 
reason, was ever ready to bear testimony to its 
destructive character : merchants and mechanics, and, 
in short, the men of all pursuits and professions, 
have been overtaken by the destroyer. Even your 
priests, of all religions, have descended from their 
high and holy calling, to sacrifice at the shrine of a 
legalized national Bacchus ; and, reeling around the 
altars of the living God, have unsettled the public 
morals, and destroyed the public confidence in the 
religion of the Bible. Here, then, we have peace, 
health, wealth, character, talents, morals, friends, 
wives, and children, lost — all lost ! — to the state and 
the world. Where is the parallel to this, to be 
found in the history of the race? Think of it 
fellow-citizens, as you have seen it presented in the 
unmistakeable reality of a common ruin, descending, 
with the swoop of an avalanche, upon the most 


retired hamlets and crowded cities of this common- 
wealth ; and then declare, whether you believe the 
License System productive of the general good. 
The entire amount paid into your treasuries, by 
retailers, from the beginning until this hour, would 
not remunerate a single family thus ruined. 

Second. A second argument may be drawn from 
the fact, that the use of ardent spirits, as a beverage, is 
destructive to the /lealth of the consumer. The health 
of the physical economy depends upon the harmonious 
action of all the animal organs, and the consequent 
progress of the functions of life. Whatever has a 
tendency to disturb the general equilibrium of the 
physical constitution, necessarily deranges the health, 
as health can only be maintained while the harmony 
of parts is preserved. Every organ, moreover, has its 
appropriate stimulants ; as, for example, light for the 
eye, atmospheric air for the lungs, food for the stomach, 
and so of all the others. But, if it be inquired, to 
what organ of the animal economy ardent spirits is 
appropriate, we answer, none ; for no organ, in a 
healthy state, needs its assistance. It neither promotes 
digestion, absorption, nutrition, assimilation, nor elimi- 
nation; nor is there an organ in the physical system, 
that is not disturbed by its lodgement in the stomach. 
The blood is the common medium of communication 
to every part of the body, and for the common benefit. 
When charged with the duty of conveying ardent 
spirits, it presents it, as it does other materials, and 


each organ instinetive makes an effort to repel the 
Roxious agent, and, if not overpowered by the un- 
welcome % isitor, it succeeds 5 if otherwise, however, it 
passes onward J still rejected at every call,, until it is 
fnially seized upon by the emunctories, as a common 
enemy, and cast out. This takes place in obedience to 
the laws of the animal frame; laws, implanted by the 
Ali-wise Maker ; laws, upon which every intelligent 
physician proceeds in the administration of his 

remedies, and which can never be outraged without 



It is now known, from the evidence of facts, that the 
preceding remarks are founded in truth, and capable 
of support by the most abundant testimony. More 
than one in every ten, in extensive districts of country, 
who have used ardent spirits, and more than one in 
five of those, who have mixed and sold it, have become 
drunkards. It is also ascertained, by the most satis- 
factory evidence, drawn from the testimony of eminent 
medical men, that more than one in every five, who 
have been habitual drinkers, have been murdered 
by it ; and hundreds who were scarcely ever knovioi to 
be intoxicated, have shortened life by years, by what is 
commonly called moderate drinking. 

In the city of Albany, New York, in a population 
of about twenty-five thousand, three hundred and 
thirty-six, over sixteen years of age, died of cholera, in 
1832. Of the whole population, one fifth were 
members of the temperance society ; and of this one 


fifth, two died of that disease. Of those not members 
of the temperance society, one in every sixty died; 
while of those who were, only one in twenty-five 
hundred died. Of six hundred brought into Park 
Hospital, New York, but one in every five called 
themselves even moderate drinkers. 

In India, Rhamahun Fingee, a native physician, 
declares, that those who did not take ardent spirits, or 
opium, seldom took cholera, though constantly laboring 
among the sick of that disease. In China, it selected 
its victims, generally, from among the filthy and intem- 
perate. A physician in Russia, slates, that the 
cholera swept away the intemperate, like swarms of 
flies, and two thousand one hundred and sixty died in 
a single city, in twenty-five days. 

In the city of Tiflis, containing twenty thousand 
inhabitants, every drunkard died. In Paris, France, 
of thirty thousand who died of cholera, the greater 
proportion were drunkards. Of two hundred and 
four cases in Park Hospital, New York, at one time, 
only six were temperate, and all recovered ; while of 
the remaining one hundred and ninety-eight, one 
hundred and twenty-two died. Statements like these 
might be multiplied to any length, but it can hardly be 
necessary to carry them farther. One more, bearing 
upon the question of usefulness, must suffice. Of one 
hundred and eighty-six vessels, belonging to New 
Bedford, the masters and owners of one hundred and 
sixty-eight, declared, that the use of intoxicating drinka 


among seafaring men, in any climate, and under an'y 
lircmnstances, was not only useless, but injurious. 

Now, to sanction by law, such an enemy to human 
health, whose known tendency is to produce loss 
of appetite, nausea, disorders, secretion, coughs, colds, 
dyspepsia, consumption, dropsy, rheumatism, epilepsy, 
gout, colic, fever, apoplexy, insanity, and deaths; 
besides, a host of other evils, the thought of which 
sickens the very soul, is an outrage upon humanity, 
patriotism, and even moral principle itself. Wc speak 
not unadvisedly, and here deliberately declare, that 
there is not, in our opinion, within the wide rnnge 
of civilized legislation in modern times, a single 
parallel to the License System in point of inconsistency 
and wrong. Indeed, it seems astonishing, in view 
of its horrid results, that it should be tolerated in any 
civilized State. Even Paganism, under the first rays 
of the beaming sun of civilization, has generally 
renounced it ; and were it not for the moral darkness 
which it creates, and the moral insensibility which it 
induces, its own doings would be sufficient to pull 
down upon it the united anathema of this whole 

If the evils resulting from the law sanctioning trade 
in alcohol were permitted to concentrate upon the 
heads of legislators themselves, they would cease 
either to enact or perpetuate laws authorizing the 
shameful traffic, by which those evils are produced. 
And, instead of " An act, entitled, An act to regulate the 


sale of spirituous liquors," any longer disgracing the 
statute books of this commonwealth, we would, 
doubtless, know it by its appropriate and real name, 
" An act to regulate the loss of public healthy the 
destruction of public morals, and the extinguishment 
of lifer 

If the opinion of the wisest in the profession of 
medicine were regarded in this, as in other cases, 
where the health of society is jeopardized, a tide of 
testimony, completely overwhelming, would be the 
result. For more than half a century, the halls 
of scientific medicine have resounded with solemn 
warnings to the student; and the best and wisest 
of the profession every where have spoken against 
it, both orally and through the press, until society 
is literally without apology. 

And, if there be a single member of the honorable 
profession, who dares to risk his medical reputation 
by affirming the necessity and harmlessness of the 
habitual use of alcohol, let him now speak, or for ever 
after hold his peace. We are free to declare, whatever 
may be the opinions of others, that we could neither 
envy the skill, nor moral principle of the ma.n ; and 
the community would have nothing in his case over 
which to shed a tear, v/ere he sloughed off from 
the surface of professional brotherhood, and left in the 
bottom of the sewer. 

Third. A third argument against the perpetuity 
of the License Law, is based upon the influence it exerts 


ujpon the puhlic peace. It has already been intiinated 
that, in order to justify the procedure, it must be 
shown that community is in some way remunerated 
for the evils inflicted, and we venture to proceed for 
a few minutes in quest of such a justifying circum- 
stance. It is true that the sale of licenses for retailing 
ardent spirits, has placed a trifle of means at public 
command : but who will venture to aifirm that this 
is a sufficient justification ? We regard with peculiar 
horror the practice of barbarous nations, in selling into 
helpless bondage the prisoners taken from an enemy 
in time of war, and for the sake of gain ; but, do we 
act a more consistent and Christian part, while we sell, 
for precisely the same consideration, annually, a host 
of the free citizens of this noble State, into the more 
despicable bondage of our jails and penitentiaries'? 
And thousands more are sacrificed upon beds of 
sickness and death, superinduced by intemperance ; 
and multitudes of others still meet, if possible, 
a more dreadful end at the point of the dagger, 
or the muzzle of the pistol ; or expiate the crimes 
committed in an hour of inebriation, upon the 

And can it be, that the public peace suffers no 
interruptions by transactions like these 1 Have the 
thousaiids of unfortunate victims of alcohol, lost the 
sensibilities common to the species, even in the hours 
of sobriety; or the thousands of homeless and heart- 
broken widows, made such by our License Laws, 


lost all sense of degradation and shame, to say 
nothing of the soul-blighting sorrows inflicted upon 
the domestic circle in other regards 1 Have orphans 
and widows no interests, or feelings, worthy to be 
considered by the guardians of the State, and that 
may not be bought and sold for the sake of filthy 
lucre, and over which the philanthropist might well 
weep tears of blood? "Well may the men, whose 
faces are set, as flints, against the deadly evil, shudder 
at the bare enumeration of the flood of woes and 
-deaths rolled in upon society by a law-sanctioned 
trade in intoxicating drinks^ and humanity turn pale 
at the spectacle of a people, branded with the unwel- 
come epithet, ^' A nation of drunkards." 

Go, inquire of your public oflacers; examine the 
records of your prisons and courts of justice; visit 
your jails and penitentiaries, the receptacles of living 
death and moral putrescence ; look at the victim of 
intoxication, as his very heart writhes in unavailing 
anguish. His property wasted; reputation lost; the 
wife of his youth broken-hearted, or already consigned 
to the voiceless tomb ; his children unlettered, and 
in rags, and abandoned to the cheerless prospects 
of a law-necessitat«d benevolence ; and then pronounce 
upon the benefits of "An Act, entitled. An Act, to 
regulate the sale of spirituous liquors, in the Commoii> 
wealth of the State of Kentucky ."^ 

But, let us examine this argument a little more 
in detail. In the county of Baltimore, in the State 


of Maryland, of 1134 paupers admitted to the alms 
liouse in a single year, 1059 were brought there 
by intemperance. Of the whole number, only twenty- 
four were known to be temperate; the habits of 
twenty-four more were unkno\'\Ti ; while of intem- 
perate parents and their children, 1059 were admitted. 
In Cumberland County, Pennsylvania, of fifty paupers, 
forty-eight were made such by intemperance. In 
Oneida County, New York, of 253 paupers, 24G 
became such by ardent spirits. At the Washington 
County, New York, Poor House, 322 were received,' 
of whom, 290 were sent there, either by their own 
intemperance, or that of others. Nineteen-twentieths 
of the poor received into the Montgoraeiy, New York, 
Poor House, owed their condition to the use of 
Intoxicating drinks, as a beverage ; and the Superin 
tendent of the Albany Aims-House, says, " "Were it. 
not for the practice of drinking, this establishment 
would be tenantless." The Keeper of the Ogdens- 
burg City Jail, states, that seven-eighths of the 
criminals, and three-fourths of the debtors, imprisoned 
there, are intemperate persons. Of the first 690 
childi*en received into the New York House of 
Refuge, after its erection, 401 were known to be 
the children of intemperate parents. In two districts 
in Upper Canada, thirty-eight out of forty-four inquests, 
held by the coroners, were decided to be cases of 
death by intemperance. The Keeper of the Ohio 
Penitentiary say^, that, cf or? htindrsd and thirty^ 


four prisoners then under his charge, only thirty-six 
called themselves moderate drinkers. 

The New York State Temperance Society, estimates 
the saving, in cost of ardent spirits alone, in one year, 
at S2,000,000 ; and the decrease of bills of mortality 
among those who have renounced its use, exhibits 
the astonishing fact, that, should this course be adopted 
by all, the number of deaths, annually, would be 
decreased by more than 50,000. 

The testimony of the most able jurists is also 
in point, showing that a very large majority of all 
the crimes committed, are the results of habitual 
intoxication. One tells us, that, of twenty-two cases 
of murder, which passed under his recognition, 
twenty-one resulted from intemperance. Another 
states, that, of twenty cases of the same kind, 
examined by himself, all were occasioned by the 
same cause. And another still, says, that, of two 
hundred murders committed in the United States, 
in one year, nearly every one originated in strong 
drink, Nearly every murder committed in the State 
of Kentucky, within the last ten years, was the 
result of intemperance ; and more than five-eighths 
of all the prisoners confined in the Penitentiary, 
within the same term, were brought there by the 
use of spirits. 

These facts, and many others, which, for want 
of time, must be omitted, all go to prove, that, 
not only is the expenditure of the country greatly 


increased by the sale of ardent spirits, but a very 
large amount of the sickness and distress of the 
community, of every kind, are owing to the same 
cause ; besides the numberless valuable lives lost in 
the same waj. If it be asked, 7iow the License 
System thus accelerates the v^^ork of destruction, 
we answer, that, while the sale and use of alcohol 
is sustained by public authority, it will continue, at 
least in the minds of the masses, to be, in some 
degree, respectable ; and public opinion cannot be 
brought to bear upon it. What we ought 'to ask at 
the hands of our legislators, is, that we may be, at 
least, left free to grapple vnth the monster, unsustained 
hy law; and until our efforts are directed to this 
point — the fountain of the misery and death, that 
rolls through the length and breadth of this common= 
wealth — we may not hope to redeem the country. 
And if the present temperance movement is ever to 
pause, and the deluge of fire to continue to roll 
through the land, scorching and withering all that 
is fair and lovely, consuming and annihilating all 
that is excellent and elevating in prospect and posses- 
sion ; the men who authorize the accursed trafiic, 
and those who trafiic in it, must endure the vast 
and continually increasing burden of guilt, and the 
retribution finally annexed to the tremendous ruin. 

Fourth. A fourth argument against the License 
System, is, that, in its 'practical operation, it is pro- 
dwctive of ignorance ; and is, therefore, dangerous 


to civil government, whether republican or otherwise, 
because its perpetuity ni-ust always depend upon 
the enlightenment of the people. 

It can only be necessary to state this argument, 
in order to secure its force in the minds of the 
reader. The doctrine contained, is coeval with 
civilization itself, and has ever been regarded as 
indispensable, particularly in the more liberal forms 
of government. It cannot but be clear to every 
one, even from the most common observation, that, 
without enlightenment, or education, the mind becomes 
the mere exponent of its own ignorance, prejudice, 
and superstition. In a country like oui's, every thing- 
depends upon the education of all the people. And 
it is impossible to conceive of the possibility of 
securing the higher objects of civil government, 
without the education of the masses. Where this 
is overlooked, for example, speculation and selt- 
aggrandizement becomes the common passion ; money, 
not intelligence, is the ruling principle. The wealthy 
perpetually remain the objects of preferment, and 
the centres of power ; and the means of eminence 
and usefulness is, consequently, confined to the few. 
Power, moreover, when confided to ignorant hands, 
gives rise to an utter uncertainty in the affairs of 
State, often resulting in misfortune, or disaster to the 
general interests, involving imnecessary expenditures; 
or, as is more frequently the case, unsettling the 
sequences of a previous and wiser administration;, 


and seriously militates against free institutions. It 
is, doubtless, requisite, that the people be able 
to judge, intelligently, of our institutions ; and in 
proportion to the general intelligence, will be the 
estimate placed upon them. 

We have seen that intemperance is the result of 
the licensed traffic in ardent spirits; and intemperance 
not only unsettles the physical economy, and destroys 
health, but it also unhinges the mental constitution. 
For, as physical derangement is the consequence 
of habitual intoxication, so a disturbed state of the 
mental phenomena is the consequence of bodily ill 
health ; and a good physical constitution, as a general 
rule, is indispensable to the healthy action of a 
manly intellect. The full play of the animal spirits, 
the vigor of the imagination, the power of feeling, and 
the comprehension of thought, all depend upon the 
healthy condition of the animal economy. Napoleon 
is said to have lost the Russian campaign by a 
fever ; and the greatest poets and orators lived in 
an age, prior to that in which luxury and intemperance 
unhinged the body, and unstrung the soul. Mere 
taste and sensibility may flourish, in disjunction with 
all that is noble and dignifying; but the fullness of 
soul and versatility of mind, indispensalbe to national 
intelligence, in its diversified applications, is found only 
in a temperate and well developed physical structure. 

The history of the race confirms the conclusion at 
which we have now arrived. Egypt, once queen 


of the nations, dug a grave for her greatness by 
the indulgence of effeminacy, and for twenty-three 
centuries, stranger tyrants have filled the throne of 
her Ptolerays. The grandeur of her ancient ruins, 
and the silent and awe-inspiring eloquence of her 
pyramids, only tell of the glory and greatness that 
were. The conquests of Greece opened the flood- 
gates of luxury and intemperance upon her hardy 
citizens, and the sun of her glory went down in 
eternal night. Rome, before the iron arm of whose 
power thrones trembled and dynasties crumbled in 
common ruin, saw herself covered with disgrace, 
and the shield of her fame cast away by the same evil. 
It is the tendency of intemperance, to stultify the 
mind, corrupt the affections, and destroy the health; 
hence, the daily use of ardent spirits, as a beverage, 
tends to ennervate the intellect, blunt the sensibilities, 
and deteriorate the national character. It also hardens 
the heart, sears the conscience, and pollutes the entire 
man; and, by opening every outlet to mental and 
pecuniary wealth, disqualifies and disinclines the 
parent to bestow the blessings of education upon the 
child. Thus, the same enactments that squander 
the public wealth and morals, also squander the 
public mind, by sustaining a system of legalized 
intemperance, disgraceful to civilization, and even 
humanity itself Besides, no fact in medical science 
is better established, than that of the transmission 
from parents to children, the constitutional, mental^ 


moral, and bodily defects ; whether they consist in 
temperament^ habits, predispositions, ill health, or 
feeble intellect. And if the health of the parent has 
been seriously impaired by a coarse of intemperance^ 
or the mind withered and shrunken by habitual 
mtoxicalion^ we may expect to witness the lamentable 
consequences in the debilitated bodies and v/eak 
intellectuality of the offepring. To what unaccountable- 
inffuense ought we to ascribe the fact, that the last 
census finds ?nore than forty tJiousands or the free white- 
population of the State of Kentucky, over twenty 
years of age, who can neither read nar writel The 
mere circumstance;, that this destitution is found 
mostly in the districts where intemperance is known 
to prevail to the greatest extent, fully solves the 

And, indeed, in whatever point of light we regard 
the practice of using ardent spirits ; or, in whatever 
class of society it prevails,^ the same consequences are 
observed to follow. The traffic in ardent spirits is a 
curse to the whole community, an ulcerating surface 
upon the very vitals of a nation's interests. And can it 
be pretended, for a single moment, that any good reason 
subsists for a law-sanctioned trade in alcoholic drinks ? 
A vague notion that it is in some way necessary, or 
at least beneficial to the travelling community, is an 
insufficient justification if even true ; for it would then 
behoove those by whom it is authorized and upheld to 
riiow, that the good resulting from its use outweighs 


the miseries inflicted, than which nothing is more 
utterly impossible. That alcohol is useful, as a solvent, 
to a variety of drugs, and very rarely as a stimulant, 
none are disposed to deny ; and if confined to the 
shops, and used as its nature indicates, then would 
society be relieved of the thousands of paupers ruined 
by it, and the literal host of curses it so certainly 
inflicts upon all vi^ho venture upon its daily use. 

But, v^e pursue the subject no further. It only 
remains for us to sum up the argument, and present 
the whole at one view. 

We feel that a crisis, big with importance to us 
and our children, has arrived. To us it belongs to 
settle the question, whether this land, overshadowed 
by the Almighty, shall belong to drunkards, and, the 
most heartless of all tyrants, the drunkard-maker. 
The trade in alcoholic drinks, as we have seen, 
depraves and curses all who engage in it. It wastes 
property, ruins morals, and unfits your citizens for 
profitable, honest, and industrious pursuits. It brings 
in an unnecessary tax upon the community, by 
compelling us to furnish and support an army 
of liquor dealers and their families, without the 
return of the smallest equivalent. It multiplies 
paupers, maniacs, and criminals; increases taxation, 
and endangers the lives and property of our citizens. 
It furnishes schools of vice, and places of resort, 
for the idle and dissipated, and holds in constant 
jeopardy the peace of society. It destroys your 


professional men, by hundreds ; robs your merchants, 
and beggars your mechanics ; pollutes the halls ot 
legislation, and turns the religion of the Bible into 
a fable. In short, if the argument be worthy of 
confidence, we have shown that the traffic is unneces- 
sary, dishonest, and imposes burdens upon society, 
without measure, without repaying any equivalent 
whatever. And is it not enough, that schools of vice 
are erected in every city, village, and neighborhood; 
your citizens murdered ; and injustice and crime 
go unwhipped of law ? And is it not enough, that 
the physical, moral, and intellectual powers of men, 
should be corrupted and destroyed ; your alms-houses, 
jails, and penitentiaries, crowded with your citizens, 
victimized by the detestable traffic ; that disease, and 
poverty, and death, in their most terrific forms, should 
be spread throughout the country : but, must the 
agents of all the ruin, receive, at our hands, our 
license and 'protection? 

Were the government a despotism, we should not 
be responsible for an alliance with grog-shops ; but, 
our legislators and magistrates are our servants, and 
for their acts we are responsible, while the power 
resides in the people. If 'a family is beggared by 
intemperance — robbed, or murdered, by the sale of 
spirits — the price paid for the liberty to vend the 
agent, is in our treasury, and is the price of blood. 
Every tear wrung from wretched widowhood, and 
helpless orphanage ; every dying groan of the wild 


and infuriated drunkard; every family altar desolated 
and overturned ; every stain of this moral leprosy, 
which has marked society with spots, more indelible 
and contagious than ever polluted the house of Israel : 
the sum total, in short, of the untold and indescribable 
miseries of the traffic, are authorized and sanctioned 
hy law. 

But, if the moral aspects of the question be set 
aside, and its pecuniary phase alone considered, the 
results of accurate computation are most startling. 
We venture to affirm, that the annual loss to these 
United States, by the sale and use of ardent spirits, 
amounts to more than $120,000,000; besides the 
losses incurred by paupers and prisoners, and the 
expense of courts of justice, in conducting civil and 
criminal processes, in cases growing out of intem- 
perance. A sum sufficient to pay the entire expense 
of administering the civil government, for nearly five 
years. The political doctrine of the country, is, that 
morality, religion, knowledge, and trade and commerce, 
are essential to good government, and the happiness 
of the people : and yet we tolerate, and even license, 
a trade, that strikes, as we have seen, at the very 
vitals of all that is holy in religion, pure in morals, 
elevating in education, and prosperous to the finances 
of the community. 

We are aware, that the doctrines advanced in the 
course of the argument are novel ; but, if they are 
false, let it be shown; if true, why not maintain 


them at once ? Why not choose our battle-ground, 
■where we cannot be driven from it while the moral 
government of Heaven endures 1 Here, and, we 
venture to predict, no where else, we may deal 
successfully with the common enemy — secure his 
final discomfiture, and emancipate the country. The 
object of the present movement should be, not to 
create a temperance party in polities, but to imbue 
all parties with the temperance spirit ; and, if the 
reformation of society is ever accomplished, and the 
regeneration of the country achieved, this point must 
be secured. Then will the halls of legislation be 
assailed by the whole people, and the liquor-vender 
be made responsible for his desolations. Ferry and 
railroad companies, and common carriers, of every 
sort, are held, by law, to a rigid responsibility ; and, 
if all license is withdrawn, and dealers held amenable, 
as in other cases, the vender will become cautious and 
wary, and society will soon fix a mark upon such, more 
indelible than that of Cain. The right to constitute 
and execute government, belongs, primarily, to the 
people ; and, as the people, o?il7/, can constitute govern- 
ment, so the people, only, can alter and amend that 
which is constituted, when found to miscarry in its 
primary objects. Our sole hope of ultimate success, 
is, to change our legislation ; and, until this is done, 
nothing is done, effectually, to remove the evil. 
We may, indeed, operate upon public opinion ; but 
popular sentiment is wayward and vascillating; and, 


wWle the statutes of the country uphold the despicable 
trade, and men of loose morals are permitted to 
hold the seals of power, the enemy will continue 
to elude our grasp. 

We rejoice, however, that the doom of drunkenness, 
and, indeed, of every other vice, is fixed — settled in 
the counsels of that God, who, from the throne of 
his power, has said, that virtue, truth, and religion, 
shall prevail ; and crime, of every shade and character, 
shall cease from off this sin-riven world. Already 
has the redeeming spirit gone forth among the 
nations, developing moral light and sensibility. The 
conscience of the world begins to evince evidences 
of new life ; and drunkenness, that foul source and 
centre, fi-om which issues a thousand other sins, is 
now receiving a new class of attentions. If there 
be encouragement in the indications of Providences 
or hope in the declarations of prophecy, the frightful 
abuse of the blessings of Heaven, so wantonly evinced, 
in the manufacture, sale, and use, of ardent spirits, 
must be corrected ; or the name of Ichabod will be 
written, in letters of fire, upon the institutions of the 
land; the progress of civilization arrested, and the 
chariot wheels of the Son of God rolled back to 
their native Heaven. 

Let us, then, be cheered by the successes of the 
past, and the promises of the future. There was a 
time, when the entire Church could be congregated 
in an inner chamber, at Jerusalem ; but now its 


members are reckoned by millions, and are spi-ead 
abroad over the continents of earth. And even in 
our own day, the same inner chamber would have 
held all the advocates of total abstinence in Christen- 
dom. Now, their number is reckoned by millions, . 
and their influence felt in all ranks of society, and 
in all the states of the civilized world. The present 
united condition of the Christian world, is among 
the promising signs of the times ; and the union of 
all, in one great temperance movement, and the first 
permanent Temperance Society, exhibiting harmony 
cf parts, and regularity of action, will ultimately 
roll upon these United States a flood of moral 
power, that will tell upon the ages and generations 
yet to come. May a gracious Providence smile upon 
the Order, and make it instrumental in causing even 
the moral wilderness and solitary places to be made 
glad, and the barren desert to bud and blossom ai 
the rose. 



Of Nashville, Tennessee. 

There are two evils, against which, as an advocate 
of Temperance, we feel especially bound to do valiant 
battle. We mean the making and the vending of 
intoxicating drinks. These are the chief sources 
of intemperance. Rather, one is the fountain, and 
the other is the stream. Could we stop the manu= 
facture, we should extinguish the volcano at the crater 5 
could we check the traffic, we should arrest the fire- 
torrent at the foot of the mountain. It would be folly 
in us here to undertake the former, for the eruption 
is still terrible ; and happy should we be, if, in making 
an humble attempt toward the latter, we might build 
the slightest barrier before the advancing lava. Our 
theme is the iniquity of the traffic. We charge the 
rum-seller with dishonesty and inhumanity; and will 
endeavor, by facts and arguments, to make good the 

240 lights of temperance. 

First. We charge the Rum-Seller with Dis- 

All our dealings with our fellow men should be 
conducted on the principle of equality. In all 
interchange of commodities, one thing should be 
made to answer to another. The seller should receive 
an equivalent for the thing sold. The buyer should 
give an equivalent for the thing bought. Thus the 
interest of both parties is secured, and trade becomes 
a mutual benefit. This is the universally recognized 
law of honesty in traffic. He who voluntarily takes 
from another any thing valuable, for which he makes 
him no adequate return, violates this law. 

Apply this to the rum-seller. He takes a benefit 
from his customer; this is unquestionable. What 
does he give in return 1 That which contributes to his 
customer's health or happiness? to his social or moral 
improvement ? to the fertility of his farm ? the 
prosperity of his business ? or the comfort of his family 1 
Has a man more acres, or are they better cultivated, 
for his patronage of the spirit vender ? Can he boast 
a better credit, a larger custom, or more money at 
interest ! Ask him what he has gained ; his impaired 
constitution and social degradation shall testify. Ask 
his habitation ; — its fallen chimney and rag-stuffed 
windov/ shall testify. Ask his children j — their tattered 
garments and liaggard features shall testify. Ask his 
wife J — her calloused hands and care-furrowed visage 
shall testify. What has the rum-seller done for her ] 


He has taken her last bed, her last gown, her last cow, 
her last loaf. He has robbed her of the heart of her 
husband. He has clouded her sunny sky, and 
rendered her paradise a purgatory. 

Go to her wretched hovel at midnight, and see her 
shivering over the last half-consumed stick of fuel ; 
while, through the crevices of the wall, and the broken 
panes of the window, the bitter blasts of December 
howl out the requiem of her hopes. Poor victim ! 
once the happy occupant of a palace ! see how she 
weeps ! hear how she sighs ! and but for the rum- 
seller, those tears might have been smiles, and those 
sighs might have been songs. Why sits she there 
in her joyless, freezing solitude ? She waits for the 
drunkard's late return. He comes. Behold the 
bloated face, observe the reeling gait, and hear the 
muttered curse, • as he enters the cabin. That was 
once a man. He had the features of a man. He had 
the heart of a man. What is he now ? A savage : 
a tiger; a putrid mass of disease ; a loathsome living 
death. Who has v^rrought the transformation? Who 
has effaced God's image, turned the husband into 
a fury, the father into a fiend ? Ask the rum-seller j 
he can tell you. Does he deny the agency 1 So 
does the burglar, the swindler, the pickpocket, the 
highwayman, the incendiary, and the assassin. 

He knows that his business is no benefit to his 
customer. He knows that he gives no equivalent for 
nis gains. He knows that he returns evil for good' 


curses for blessings ; poverty, prison, and woe, for the 
means of wealth, and health, and happiness. He 
knows that his wretched victim is past the power 
of self-control, that his appetite has mastered his 
judgment, that vicious habit carries it over the 
frequent resolution. Yet he continues to trade with 
him ; invites, urges, and flatters him ; exposes the 
maddening temptation in gilded decanters, and environs 
it with every fascinating circumstance in his command, 
to inflame still more the morbid thirst which is already 
consuming body and soul, and swindle the last dime 
from the hapless idiot, and pluck the bread from 
the mouths of his famishing children. 

Were it honest to sell a worthless article to a 
child, taking advantage of his immature judgment 1 
Were it honest to sell an injurious article to a lunatic, 
knowing that he is incapable of using it discreetly? 
How, then, can it be honest to sell alcohol to an 
inebriate? He is weaker than a child, and madder 
than a lunatic. Give him the poison, the viper, the 
fire-brand ? Yet the spirit-vender, for the sake of his 
money, will render him still more imbecile and brute 
like, and put into his hand the deadliest agency or. 

A man in New Jersey, who had lived in ease, 
not to say in affluence, swallowed all his substance, 
and became an abandoned sot. His four little children 
were left entirely to their mother's care, and her 
heart was often broken by their ci'ies for bread. She 


arose one winter morning, and left them sleeping on 
the floor, where they had lain around her during the 
night, huddled together for mutual warmth, and scarcely- 
half covered with old blankets and rags. While she 
was at work carding wool, to earn something with 
which to satisfy their hunger, one of them awoke, 
crying piteously for food. The noise of the fir^ 
disturbed the second, and soon all the four were 
around her, begging for what she could not give. 
This heart-rending scene continued for some time, 
when a neighboring lady, for whom she had been 
doing some spinning of late, sent her half a bushel 
of corn. She gave the grain to her husband, re- 
questing him to carry it to the mill, and waited 
anxiously for his return. Grown keener now at the 
thought of food, the children became more clamorous 
than ever, and torturing cries for bread tore asunder 
the maternal heart. Two hours elapse, and the 
father has not returned. What can be the reason 1 
A dreadful suspicion rushes upon the mother's brain. 
She hastens after him. She meets him reeling home- 
ward with a rum jug instead of the grist. The rum- 
seller had met him, and robbed him of his children's 
bread ! 

The rum-sellers of Great Britain rob their coun- 
trymen every year of forty-four millions sterling, 
nineteen millions more than the whole population 
pay for bread ; and occasion, in various ways, a 
waste of property amounting to one hundred millions 


more, a sum largei' than all the profits of British 
merchandise, and sufficient to sustain a church and 
a free school in every parish of the British realm. 
In our own country the annual cost of the liquor 
consumed is not less than one hundred millions of 
dollars; to which you must add sixty-five millions for 
the loss of time and waste of property occasioned by 
kd consumption, and twelve millions more for the 
support of the paupers it has made, and the pay of 
the doctors, lawyers, sheriffs, and jailors it has em- 
ployed ; making an aggregate of one hundred and 
seventy-seven millions, sufficient to sustain all our 
religious, literary and philanthrophic institutions; to 
support all our civil offices and learned professions^ 
and send out a hundred thousand missionaries, and 
carry a copy of the Bible into every family of the 
globe. This is the rum-seller's annual booty in 
America. If you should sit down to count it, and 
count at the rate of twenty-five dollars per minute 
twelve hoars each day, it would take your more 
than thirty years ; and if it were all in one dollar 
bills spread out in a continuous line, it would be 
more than seventeen thousand miles long, and would 
reach more than five times across the Atlantic, or 
two-thirds around the world. 

In the light of these facts we are to judge of 
the rum-seller's honesty. He wastes more treasure, 
and causes more suffering, than any other agent in 
the devil's employ. The common thief commits his 


depredations in the dark ; but the rum-seller robs you 
in open day. The highwayman, the pickpocket, and 
the burglar, take the booty and are gone ; but the rum- 
seller remains to rob you again and again. " He that 
steals ray purse steals trash ;" but the rum-seller 
" filches from me my good name," my office, honor, 
influence, self-respect, and blood-bought crown in 
Heaven. These facts are fully before him, urged 
upon bis attention every day by squallid poverty 
and pauperism; by the sighs of a thousand broken 
hearts, and the tears of half the world. But he loves 
the darkness rather than the light, because his deeds 
are evil ; and will not come to the light, lest his deeds 
should be reproved. With his conscience in his pocket, 
and his heart encased in stone, he prosecutes his in- 
famous traffic, and clutches his unhallowed gains, and 
hoards the price of human souls, and builds his house 
of human bones cemented with human blood, regard- 
less alike of God's omniscient scrutiny, and hell's 
eternal flames ! We will not insult your reason by 
asking you if such villainy is honest ! 

Second. We charge the Rum-Seller with 

Is the tyrant inhuman? The rum-seller is the most 
absolute of tyrants. He holds his victim as with the 
grasp of a serpent, and rules him as with a rod of 
iron. He enslaves both body and soul. He paralyzes 
the limbs, stupefies the senses, and puts a bann upon 
the intellect. He reduces a man to the level of the 


brute, tramples him into the dust, hurls him into the 
kennel, and herds the god-like with the swine. He 
weaves, of silken threads, a snare so strong that no 
human resolution can avail to extricate the victim. He 
loads his captives with fetters worse than iron ; incar- 
cerates them in dungeons worse than adamant ; and 
inflicts upon them mental anguish a thousand-fold more 
excruciating than any inquisitorial torture. 

" Nor to the weeping eye he yields them back, 
Nor to the bursting heart ! " 

Is the savage inhuman 1 The rum-seller is the 
most unfeeling of savages. In comparison with his 
heartless treatment of his fellow man, Indian cruelty 
and South Sea canibalism are Christian benevolence 
and angelic compassion. Assemble all the widows, 
orphans, paupers, patients, idiots, and maniacs he has 
made, and you have- an aniiy whose collected tears 
would form another Mississippi; whose concentrated 
sighs would constitute a tornado which would desolate 
the land for leagues, and whose voice of mingled wail- 
ing and madness might well nigh wake the pity of the 
dead ! But come to the nucleus where all these woes 
concentre. Behold the drunkard ! Ah! it is here that 
the rum-seller strikes down every hope that can cheer, 
and wrings every fibre that can feel, and pours the 
thrilling anguish through a thousand avenues, before 
his hapless victim finds a shelter from his vengeance in 
the everlasting fire ! None but the drunkard knows 


^hat the drunkard endures. His property gone, his 
character ruined, his tenderest relations sundered, his 
mind a miniature Tartarus, his body a putrid mass of 
disease, well may he exclaim, with Milton's outcast 
archangel — 

Me miserable ! which way shall I fly 
Infinite wrath and infinite despair? 
Which way I fly is hell ; myself am liell , 
And in the lowest depth, a lower deep, 
Still threat'ning to devour me, opens wide. 
To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven! 

His bosom is a cage of asps and scorpions, a den 
where demons infuriate hold perpetual revelry. The 
unutterable anguish glares through his bloodshot eyes, 
and stamps his blotched and haggard visage to the 
resemblance of a fallen angel. Such is the intensity 
of the eternal fever-thirst, that for its momentary miti- 
gation he is ready to sacrifice all that is dear to 
him in earth or heaven ; and often, in the delirium of 
agony, he seeks, amidst the flames of hell, an asylum 
from the rum-seller's fiercer purgatory. See him, 
bound upon his bed, at once the terror and the 
pity of his friends ; in the same breath, weeping and 
laughing, groaning and singing, cursing and praying ; 
and ever and anon the room rings with shouts and 
shrieks, so fierce and terrible, as to attract spectators 
from the streets and the neighboring dwellings. Mark 
those frightful eye balls; those distended nostrils; those 
blue, cadaverous cheek.s ; that brow, covered with big 


drops of cold, clammy perspiration. Observe how he 
starts, and shudders, and pleads for help, and grasps 
for a hold, as if his soul were drowning. Now his 
delirious fancy peoples the apartment with stalking 
spectres and menacing fiends, and he points to thera 
with a trembling finger, and speaks to them in whis- 
pers of mortal terror, and gazes after them until his 
strained eyes seem starting from their sockets. Then 
he imagines his bed a den of slimy reptiles and loath- 
some vermin ; cowers in speechless agony, as if he 
would sink into the earth beneath the blasting eye of 
a basilisk; utters a feeble, choking cry, and beseeches 
you, for Heaven's sake, to tear that venomous serpent 
from his neck; while with one hand he plucks the 
spiders out of his ears, and with the other wrenches 
from his back the fang of a scorpion. One moment he 
weeps as if his heart were bursting ; the next, he cries 
out as if all hell had broken loose wdthin him ; and 
anon he buries his face in the bed clothes, as if to 
hide from the gaze of some infernal visitant ; and the 
quick, convulsive tremor shoots, thrilling, to the ex- 
tremities of his frame. His physical energies at length 
exhausted, he lies gnashing and quivering upon his 
couch ; and his eye, having lost all volition, rolls like 
a flashing meteor ; and his tongue, bitten and bleeding, 
hangs from his foaming mouth like that of a wild horse 
on the burning prairie ; and his blue, emaciated hands 
are clenched so tightly, that the very blood is extrava- 
sated beneath the nails. Go and gaze upon such a 


sight, if you have the nerve to endure it ; and as you 
gaze, let me whisper one word in your ear — That is 
the work of the rum-seller ! 

Is the murderer inhuman? The rum-seller is the 
most atrocious of murderers. A spirit-vender in 
Connecticut had a sign over his door, which read, 
"Rectified Whisky;" immediately under which was 
his own name, ominous enough, "Absalom Death." 
One day, an old market woman, with her youthful son 
Johny, was passing along in her little wagon, when 
she caught a view of the " Death " sign. Now, the 
mother was rather illiterate, but her son was a learned 
boy, and she asked him to read the words, and he 
began — " R-e-c-t, Rectified ; W-h-i-s-k, Whisky; Recti- 
fied Whisky, Abso-lute Death, Mother!" "That's a 
fact, Johny," rejoined the good old woman ; and T 
vummy, there's one honest whisky seller in our State, 
any how !" Now, the lad read the sign wrong, and 
yet he read it right. He read it wrong, because he 
read it not as it was written ; he read it right, because 
he read it as it should have been written.; and we 
maintain that his mistake was correct, his error 
strictly consonant with truth ; that " rectified whisky." 
that alcohol, under any name, is "absolute death;" and 
it needs not the old woman's yankee asseveration to 
establish the fact. You have had the testimony of 
chemists and physicians, that alcohol is one of the most 
active and poweriul of the narcotic vegetable poisons ; 
Eo subtle and diffusive as to penetrate the smallest 


nerves and most delicate fibres ; circulating with great 
facility through every avenue of the animal system; 
'..nvariably injuring and ultimately destroying every 
organ with which it comes in contact: that it pervades 
the whole body of the inebriate ; may be distilled fiT)m 
his lungs, his liver, and his blood ; even creeps up into 
the atti-e story of his earthly Ikjusb, the brain; where 
it is often found after death, in such quantities as to be 
readily detected by the sense of smell, and blaze 
instantly on the application of fire t in short, that 
alcohol, whether procured from the grocer's barrel or 
the dnjnkard's brain, whether taken into the stomach 
of a m^an, or injected into the veins of a dog, is the 
same destructive poison ; differing with circumstances 
in its tnodus operandi : but invariably resulting, sooner 
or later, in disease and death. The British House of 
Commons, in .1834, appointed a committee of inquiry 
on drunkenness ,' and before this committee were 
brought for examination, tne highest medical authori- 
ties of the realm; and their uniform testimony was, 
that alcohol, as a beverage, is invariably injurious to 
the human constitution; that it produces premature 
decrepitude and decay in the aged, stinted growth and 
general debility in the youngs and in all who use it, a 
complication of dangerous diseases. The celebrated 
Dr. Rush, more than sixty years ago, declared that 
alcohol is the legitimate, though oft the unsuspected 
parent of jaundice, dispepsia, dropsy, epilepsy, apo= 
pl€«y, ccneamf^ion, idiocy. an3 mania. A^cth^ 


eminent physician afnnns, timt it contains no more 
nourislament than fire or lightning; and that it is 
equally destructive, though l)y a different process, of 
human health and life. Another pronounces it more 
prolific of diseases and premature death than s'il 
other agencies combined. In short, fifteen thousand 
scientific physicians, in Europe and America, have 
united in the testimony, that alcohol is a rank and 
deadly poison. Yet this is the article that the 
rum-sellers of our ovrn country are vending to their 
fellow-citizens at the rate of twenty-three millions 
of gallons per annum; a quantity sufficient to fill 
a canal six feet deep, thirty feet wide, and fifty 
miles long. And v/hat is the consequence? More than 
three hundred thousand drunkards stagger through 
our streets ; and fifty thousand of them every year, 
according to Mr. X)elavan, stagger into eternity ! And 
do you know how they die? Come and see! 

"For, Oh, 'tis awful! he that hath beheld 
The parting spirit, by its fears repelled. 
Cling, in weak teiTor, to its earthly chaii 
And from the dizzy brink recoil in vain. 
Well know3 that hour is awful!" 

See the poor victim, writhing, as on an in tisitorial 
rack ; or rolling from side to side, like i'e forest 
tiger brought to bay by the hunters. See !iim, con- 
sumed within by slow fires and lingering tortures, 
holding long communion with wan, unsheetc^jt* ghosts, 
and dark Bpirits of liel!. See him beating hi' fturningf 


Dveast — eyes blood-shot, cheeks haggard, lips shrivelled} 
teeth blackened, tongue palsied, hair matted — till the 
hapless creature looks as if perdition had already 
devoured him, and, sick of her nauseous meal, had 
vomited him forth on earth. And thus he dies — dies 
unlamented, and none weeps at his burial, and none 
has a tear for his memory, save the bare-footed 
orphan, and the heart-broken widows, and the gray- 
haired sire that bends over the grave, exclaiming, 
" Would to God I had died for thee, my son ! my 
son !" Behold the work of the rum-seller ! He 
need not disclaim the agency ; the matter is too 
obvious for argument. He may say, he has no 
malice, no intention to kill; but, whatever the motive, 
the consequence is the same, and the ruin he has 
wrought is ever before his eyes. 

What is murder? Must there ^be "malice pre- 
pense," with an intention to kill 1 No. The sacrifice 
of human life, from recklessness, selfishness, or a sordid 
love of gain, is often murder in the highest degree. 
So says Blackstone, and all the best expounders of 
law. Who, then, is guilty of blood, if not the rum- 
seller? Does he not vend death for dimes, and 
perdition for picayunes ? Does not the most absorbing 
selfishness, and utter recklessness of the interest of 
others, characterize his traffic from first to last? 
Is he not aware, that every glass he sells, is under- 
mining the constitution, and shortening the life of his 
customer ? Is he sure that the dram hs is now 


tneasurmg out, will not prompt to the murder of a 
wife or a child, and result in the drinker's suicitie I 
But what cares he, so long as he receives his pay ] 
What cares he, while he can accumulate filthy lucre, 
how many hopes he blights; how many hearts he 
breaks; how many homes he desolates; how many 
paradises he despoils ; how many cemeteries he 
peoples, with the loathsome victims of his cupidity ] 
What, though there be no "malice prepense;" no 
intention to kill 1 We challenge the rum-seller to 
show a better motive, than often impels the midnight 
assassin ! The rum-seller is actuated by the mere 
love of gain ; so is the assassin. The rum-seller 
declares he does not like his business ; so does tho 
assassin. The rum-seller would change his course, 
had he any other prospect for a living; so would 
the assassin. " But," says the rum-seller, " I do 
not steal to my neighbor's bed, and kill him in his 
sleep." True : but if he did, the act would be less 
criminal, and less calamitous. Then his victim would 
die innocently; but now he sends him into eternity, 
staggering under a ten-fold weight of guilt. Then 
his victim would die involuntarily; but now he puts 
the instrument into his hand, and makes him his own 
murderer. Then his victim would die instantaneously; 
but now he destroys hiin by a tedious and excruciatincr 
•process, inflicting a thousand deaths in one. Then 
nis victim would die without any foreign interference; 
but now he immolates him in the face of an indignaiil 


community ; amid the heart-rending remonstrancea of 
"wife and children, and the rebukes of the Bible, and 
the expostulations of the pulpit, and the frequent 
criminations of conscience, and the thousand-fold voices 
of God ! Better than the assassin ? The assassin 
is an angel of mercy, in the comparison ! The 
assassin can kill only the body ; but the rum-seller 
destroys both soul and body in hell. The assassin 
cannot pursue his victim into eternity; but the rum- 
seller's vengeance leaps the grave, and, hadng made 
life a curse in one world, inflicts the woes of the 
second death in another. All the Neroes, and all the 
Nebuchadnezzars, whose deeds are recorded in the 
annals of tyranny and persecution, could not invent a 
ruin so complicate and dreadful ; a ruin which Satan 
himself could not achieve, without the agency of 
^he rum-seller ! Oh ! class him not with men ! He 
belies every attribute of his species. Better rank 
him with wolves, panthers, hyenas, alligators, and 
boa, constrictors — the fiercest prowlers of the forest, 
and the meanest reptiles of the marsh. Talk not 
of the rum-seller's reason ! The only faculty of his 
soul he has ever cultivated, the only intellectual 
process of which he is capable, is the calculation 
of his ov/n interest. Talk not of the rum-seller's 
principle ! Think you he ever asks himself what 
is right or honorable? "The root of all evil," is 
his dominant passion. The accumulation of pelf, is 
1ms supreme ambition. What, to him, is friendship, 


influence, character, or public opinion, unless it will 
aid him in heaping up gold as dust, and silver as 
the sand of the sea 1 An accursed cupidity urges 
him on, over the trampled weal of community, and 
the crushed hearts of his kindred. Money is the 
goal of his wishes, and the god of his worship. A.nd 
inoney he will have, by fair means or foul. Money 
he will have, reckless of God or man. Money he 
will have, "though he get it by vending poison, ruin, 
and despair. Oh ! tell me not that he has a con- 
science ; that he has a human heart. He ? The 
s'um-seller 1 So has the rattle-snake ! So has " that 
old serpent, the Devil!" He? He wants but the- 
toleration of the law, and the fascination of the 
com ; and he would vend vipers to your children., 
by the bushel, and scorpions, by the score. Justice 
is an obsolete term with him ; and pity is not in his 
vocabulary. Other men are gifted with souls, and 
consider their souls es part of themselves ; he has 
nothing but a purse, into which he has crept, and 
is trying to pull the world after him. Argument 
and entreaty fall powerless upon his ad<ler-ear, 
as the moonbeams on the snow. He toils on in 
his unholy trade, as if there were no observing 
God, and no approaching jtidgment ; as if the 
blood-ransomed soul were worthless, the doctrine 
of immortality a pagan fable, and heaven and hell 
mere chimeras of insane, religionists. The eternal 
pauperism of the damned, is not half so terrible to 


him as present want ; and the imperishable inheritance 
of the blessed, not half so attractive as the sheen of 
his silver, and the glitter of his gold. He should be 
christened Balaam, and surnarned Judas ; for a little 
shining dust would tempt him to curse the Israel 
of God, and sell the God of Israel ; while a few 
dollai's, or a few dimes, is sufficient inducement 
for him to barter away his own blood-redeemed 
immortality ! 

Such is the rum-seller, and such is his work. H& 
K the enemy of our interests, in time, and the 
destroyer of our hopes, for eternity. He came."* 
^the fatal box of Pandora ; and. wherever he goes^ 
lets out the winged ruin, multiform and fierce, among 
the children of men. Pestilence breathes from his 
lips, and desolation lingers on his footsteps. His 
person is an embodied curse; his presence a withering 
sirocco; the atmosphere in which he moves, the very 
prelude of hell. Peace flies at his approach, and 
despair triumphs in his train. Brothers and sisters, 
parents and children, husbands and wives, and 
neighbors, and lovers, and friends, mourn, with 
immitigable anguish, over his innumerable victims^ 
He has dug millions of graves, tolled millions of 
knells, enveloped millions of our race in a moonless 
and starless night. Many a Jacob has he bereft 
of his Joseph and his Benjamin, bringing down the 
gray hairs of the patriarch, with sorrow, to the tomb, 
and obscuring the sunny hopes of gifted and aspiriDg 


youth, with the blackness of darkness, for ever. Look 
abroad over the earth, and what do you behold ? 
Hearts crushed and bleeding ; honest laborers stripped 
of the last hard-earned dollar ; widows and orphans 
turned out, pennyless, and shelterless, upon the cold 
charities of the world ; the virtuous and respectable 
despoiled of a stainless reputation, and covered with 
a cloud of infamy ; and man, by the myriad, wearing 
the image of his God, murdered, soul and body, on 
the high road to immortality ! Cast your eyes over 
this reeking Aceldama; and, as you behold, once 
more let me whisper — nay, let me speak, in a lone 
that shall wake the echoes of the mountains — All tJiu 
is the work of the rum-seller ! 

But the rum-seller has a variety of pleas, in extenua- 
tion, or vindication, of his business. Let us look at 
a few specimens of his logic. 

" I was bred to the business." So pleads the 
pickpocket, the highwayman, the gambler, the burglar, 
and the pirate. If the plea is good for you, it is 
equally good for them. 

" I must provide for my family." But, is the 
manner of no consequence % Will you " do evil, 
that good may come," and justify the means by the 
end % Will you steal, to clothe your wife, and feed 
your children with blood \ 

" If I do not sell, somebody else will." Bui, if it 
would be wrong in another, it is wrong in you. 
Another's sin is no justification of your's. You may 


not commit a crime, even to prevent another from 
committing it. What ! May I steal a horse, because 
another will, if I do not ? May I forge a note, because 
another will, if I do not? May I fire- a dwelling, 
because another will, if I do not ? May I kill my 
neighbor, because another will, if I do not ? 

*'I am in a free country, and you shall not abridge 
my liberty." But your freedom is no license to pick 
my pocket, or cut my throat; and if you do so, the 
law will abridge both your liberty and your life. 
You have no right to use even your own property for 
the injuj'y of others. You may not incautiousl^r blast 
the ponderous rock, though it lie within your own 
field. You may not fell a tree upon your neighbor's 
fence, though it stand in your own forest. You may 
not remove a natural embankment, and turn a stream 
upon another's farm, though you operate entirely upon 
your own premises. And do you imagine, that you 
have no right to administer poison for refreshment, and 
" scatter fire-brands, arrows, and death around you ?" 

" The law protects my business ; the law sanctions 
my trade; I am licensed according to law." What 
law? The great principles of all law are against it; 
and were there no other, there is a law in your own 
conscience which condemns it. If you have not 
obliterated that God's-writing by your sin. What is 
the design of law? The protection of our property, our 
characters, our happiness, and our lives. But against 
all these you have conspired, and are waging the 


deadliest warfare. Are you not, therefore, fighting 

against the law? Why are mad-dogs, gun-powder, 

unwholesome provisions, and infectious diseases, subject 

to the vigilant scrutiny of the law] Why have we 

specific enactments in regard to the sale and use of 

poisons? Why is a man j^unishable for poisoning 

a fountain or a stream, or carelessly administering a 

pernicious drug to a patient ? And does not your 

business come v/ithin this category ? Sanctioned by 

law ? Authorized by license ? What will either 

law or license avail you, "when God maketh inquisition 

for blood ?" Can those who framed the law, or 

signed the license, stand between you and the Eternal 

Justice, or shield you from the burning curses of the 

ruined? What will such authority avail you, when 

the vagabond husband, with his haggard wife and 

beggared children, shall cry to Heaven for vengeance 

upon the man that pilfered them of bread, clothed 

them in rags, and covered them with shame ? " Do 

you I'eraember me ?" said a rum-seller, to a dyii?g 

drunkard. "O yes!" was the reply; "J can never 

forget you ! it was at your bar I bought my ruin ! 

I shall remember you to all eternity !" Ah ! if he 

had a particle of conscience left, how terribly must the 

avenger have lashed the murderer? Who are fliey 

that have licensed you to vend damnation by the gill ? 

If sent to hell with you, will their presence mitigate 

your woe ? Ah ! your license may do well enough in a 

human court, but will not ausv/er at the bar of God. 


The fires of the eternal law will turn it quickly to 
tinder, and scathe the temerity that presents it there. 
Go and get your instrument ratified from the throne 
of Heaven ! Suspend your infamous traffic, till the 
mysterious hand that wrote upon Belshazzar's palace- 
wall shall inscribe a license for you, in appropriate 
fire -characters, upon every cask in your cellar, and 
every bottle in your bar ! 




Of Columbia, Tennessee, and P. G. W. P. of Tennessee. 

It is not enough, that we have political freedom; 
that we enjoy civil equality; and are secure in our 
persons and property. There is another kind of 
freedom wanting, to complete man's birth-right — moral 
freedom— a freedom that makes man the master, and 
not the slave, of his passions ; that releases him from 
the dominion of appetite and vicious habits ; that 
have dragged tens, scores, and hundreds of thousands, 
down to ruin, degradation, and death. To effect this 
glorious purpose; to strike off the tyrant's chains, 
and let the oppressed go free as air, with no restraint 
but that of duty, is the great end we have in view. 
When this shall have been done, then will man be 
emphatically free. With a light heart, and a bu yant 


spirit, he will go forth, not fearing that the stones 
on which he steps, will reproach his meanness, or 
the dastard owl hoot his degradation ; but, with that 
boldness and confidence conscious innocence ever 
affords ; with head erect, and eye upturned to heaven, 
he will look at the sun with undazzled gaze, and 
walk the earth with the elasticity of a freeman's 

But, we go not forth with spear and sword, to 
fight our battles. The shout of the charge, the clash 
of steel in angry conflict, and the thunder of the 
cannon, are not the arguments with which we stand 
up to plead our cause. Behind us, we leave no 
cities smoking in ruins ; no desolated provinces ; no 
fields died in human gore ; to tell of the desolating 
scourge of the conqueror Reason is our weapon; 
our helmet, truth. 

As heaven is higher than earth, as time is out- 
rueasured by eternity, so does the exhibition of moral 
grandeur and sublimity, of the union of heart and 
purpose of the good and the wise, the virtuous and 
the just, to elevate man's condition — -to make him 
happy, by making him good— excel the feats of 
chivalry, the mustering of armies, and the coronation 
of kings. Such a soldiery, arrayed to do battle in 
such a cause, is a spectacle that not only fills, with 
delight, every heart that throbs with interest for the 
ivelfare of man, but, upon which God himself must 
look with complacency, and angels, and redeemed 


spirits, cast an approving smile. To be the means 
of shedding the sunshine of joy and gladness into 
the dark and desolate abodes of wretchedness and 
despair; to aid in rescuing the drunkard from his 
awful fate, and of restoring him, thus redeemed and 
regenerated, to the bosom of his family ; to dispel 
the darkness and gloom that overhang the path of 
life, and light up with sunshine and gladness ; are 
the great objects we propose to accomplish ; the 
mighty aims that engage the best exertions, and 
loftiest energies, of the true Son of Temperance. 

Within the last three-fourths of a century, what 
a change has come over the face of the world! It is 
true, the same skies sparkle, in brightness, above our 
heads ; the same sun careers, in majesty, through 
the heavens ; the same breezes fan us with their 
perfumed breath; and the same earth blooms, in 
Deauty and verdure, at our feet; but else how changed! 
Revolution after revolution, has rolled its waves over 
the face of the world ; and though, for a time, some 
of them may have been retrogressive in their character, 
yet, their general tendencies have been, to improvo 
the social condition, and elevate the character of man. 
Political establishments, of long standing, have been 
broken up ; and others, more wisely providing for 
the wants of man, erected in their stead. Dynasties 
have come to an end ; thrones have crumbled to 
ashes, before the breath of freedom ; and tyrants 
have loosed their hold on tb^ necks of their oppressed 


people. Time waved over them its magic wand, 
and they were not. Our lots have been cast in the 
midst of a mighty striving of the stagnant mass d 
moral energies, which rolls onward its tide, like the 
waters of the deep, driven before the storm : and we 
must bestir ourselves betimes, lest v/e be left behind 
the age in which we live. 

How wonderful, how stupendous in their conse- 
quences of good, have been these moral revolutions ! 
How physical suffering has been diminished ; how 
social enjoyments have been multiplied ; how human 
happiness has been increased j what new impulses 
to good, have been given to the heart of man ; how 
his intellect has been expanded, and his moral feelings 
elevated ! But, this is not enough. We must not 
stand still, content with what has already been done, 
while so much remains yet to do. We owe it to the 
past, the present, and the future, to exert ourselves 
to advance still higher upon the scale of improvement, 
so that we leave the world wiser, better, and happier, 
than we found it. 

Within that period, a few feeble colonies have 
shaken off the yoke of slavery, and grown into a 
mighty and independent nation. Minerva's fabled 
birth, fi'om the brain of Jove, was scarcely more 
miraculous, than the rapid growth of America ; 
whereby she has taken her stand among tlie proudest 
nations of the earth. From every mountain-peak in 
our happy land, blazes the beacon-light of liberty. 


which, flingmg its glare across the world of waters^ 
lights the oppressed of other nations to the privileges 
and blessings their rulers have denied them; and 
shows to tyrants the awful retribution that awaits 
ihem, when an outraged people, influenced with just 
resentment, shall rise, and take their own cause in 
their own hands. The spii'it of enterprise has gone 
into the primeval forests, and made the wildness of 
the wilderness to smile in peace, plenty, and comfort, 
beneath the hand of civiii^iation. 

Seventy-iive years ago, where many a proud city 
now stands, opening her lap to receive the rich 
treasures of commerce, was the haunt of wild beasts, 
or the abode of still more savage man. Then, the 
smooth surface of our beautiful rivers were unpressed, 
save by the light canoe of the Indian, as he skimmed 
along, in quest of food, plunder, or the blood of his 
enemies. No rich freight then pressed the water- 
palace, as it ploughed its way to the distant city; 
no covered squares ; no lengthened streets, lined with 
houses, and filled with the choicest merchandise from 
distant countries, told of the wealth of the merchant 
and the trader ; no stately palace declared the power 
of money and mechanical skill, the refinement of 
laste, or the stimulus of rivalry and fashion ; no 
glittering spires, that, shooting upwards to the heavens, 
catch the first blush of morn, and around which 
day's dying brightness fondly lingers, as if reluctant 
to leave the sacred spot ; proclaimed that the true 


God had temples on earth, and the Most High a 
people who delighted to give him honor. Where the 
din and bustle of the crowded city now fall upon the 
ear, reigned the solitude of the wilderness. 

In the same time, the Sunday School, the Bible 
Society, the Missionary Societies, have come on their 
errand of mercy to the world, to teach man how to 
live, and how to die ; and to befit him for the 
enjoyment of that bliss which awaits the just beyond 
the grave ; to shed light along his pathway through 
life, and strew even the grave with the flowers of 

A new era has dawned upon the world, excelling, 
in splendor, what was ever conceived of by the 
enthusiasts of other times. Philosophy has mapped the 
heavens, named and numbered the stars, peopled 
planets, and scanned the solar system as with an 
angel's vision. Beyond the orbit of Herschel, where 
the mind of man never before dared to travel, has been 
discovered a new planet, unknown to a Ritlenhouse aiid 
a Newton. The human mind, revelling in its freedom, 
has been sent out into every department of nature, 
to enrich science v/ith its discoveries. Far surpassing 
what was dreamed of by Franklin, the mighty agent, 
electricity, has been chained to the wheel, and made to 
become the postboy of thought. What to our grand- 
fathers was miraculous, is to us common place, 
Christianity has been rescued from the gross abomi- 
nations and absurdities into which it was plunged 


by the bigotry and superstition of its nominal friends 
and pretended believers. The rack, the fagot, the 
guillotine, are no longer the arguments by which 
believers are converted to the religion of Christ. 
Here, at last, in this land of religious tolerance, the 
thunder of the Vatican strikes no terror to the heait. 
True piety, it has been found, consists more in 
internal purity, than external forms and ceremonies. 
No religious opinion, though it may have been demon- 
strated by the blaze of the fagot, and, like the pyramids 
of Egypt, grown hoary with the age of centuries, is 
entitled to any respect, unless supported by reason 
and warranted by revelation. This is, decidedly, a 
utilitarian age. Every thing in physics and meta- 
physics is, as it should be, judged of by its fruit. 

Casting aside the absurd dogmas of the ancient 
schools, the philanthropist and true Christian look 
upon, man, however fallen from his " first and blessed 
estate," as a being still possessed of high and noble 
attributes — -as having an immortal spirit, that shows 
him akin to Heaven, and a yoke-fellow for angels; 
and, like Marius, seated amid the wreck of Carthage, 
sublime even in ruins. He is regarded neither as 
a saint nor a devil, but as a being of mixed principles 
of good and evil, susceptible of the highest elevation, 
or the lowest degradation. To awake him to a true 
sense of his dignity and responsibility, in the great plan 
of the universe — to expand his intellect by the cultivation 
' of science, and purify his moral feelings by the lesson* 


of virtue, so that he may stand forth, a living 
monument of the wisdom and goodness of his God, 
and his worthy representative on earth — thus to 
dignify and elevate man, whom God has delighted 
to honor, is the end and aim for which our Order was 

Welcome, thrice welcome, this blessed dawn, before 
whose coming darkness, clouds and shadows begin to 
flee away, as if of themselves afraid ! Thank Heaven 5 
the gloom of night, which hung like a pall of death 
upon our moral sky, has been succeeded by a glorious 
morn. The Sun of Temperance, as he looms in 
majesty above the eastern horizon, smiling in beauty 
through widows* tears and orphans' sighs, spans with 
the bow of promise the dark retiring cloud. 

And have we nothing to cheer us on in this noble 
enterprise 1 The past is full of encouragement, and 
the future of hope. That same God watches over us 
whose Spirit walked upon the waters beside the May= 
flower, as she climbed the waves and dashed from her 
prow the foaming spray ; whose hand directed the 
helm and guided the storms that played around the 
masts of that bark which bore from their native land 
the Pilgrim Fathers, to found an empire in the forests 
of America. He who hath stood by us in th© 
darkest gloom of adversity, will not now forsake us. 

At every period in our country's history, from its 
discovery to the present moment, the hand of God is 
visible in directing its affairs. The time, place, and 


peculiar circumstances of its early settlement, seem all 
to have happened for good, by those wonderful co- 
incidences v/hich nothing e>se but the wisdom of God 
could have ordained. Had the settlement been made at 
any other time than that in which it was, there would 
have been an established religion here ; and had it been ' 
made at any other place than upon the bleak shores 
of New England, we would not have been taught that 
fortitude in suffering, that patient endurance of trial, 
that contempt of danger, that resolution to struggle 
with difficulties, so essential to give stability, energy, 
and high moral character to a nation. It is the spirit 
infused by the Pilgrim Fathers into our free institutions, 
to which we are indebted for our prosperity as a 
nation — our happiness as a people. 

America seems to have been set apart in the Eternal 
mind, as a theatre for the experiment, how near man 
could attain to perfection, under all the advantages of 
sound religion, science, soil, climate, production, and a 
good government. Indeed, we are greatly blessed. We 
inhabit a country upon which Heaven has well nigh 
exhausted its bounty, and art its ingenuity. No other 
people in the world were ever blessed with such 
privileges, natural and artificial, as we enjoy. Here is 
realized the Republic of Plato, the Utopia of Sir 
Thomas More, and the Eldorado of Sir Walter 
Raleigh. Unlike other countries, the pages of whose 
history are illumined by the glowing inspirations of 
genius, and the splendor of the warrior's renown, but 


where care-worn toil receives no thrift, and honest labor 
no reward, hungry want and haggard famine find here 
no peasant's hovel in v/hich to take up their abode — 
no streets and highways in which to beg — no hedges at 
which assignations are made with death. Enterprise 
is invited on every hand to exert its skill and energy ; 
industry is cheered amid its labors by the certainty 
of remuneration. The heart of the poor man sinks 
not within him at the recollection of his wife and little 
ones, when his daily toil fails from age or disease, 
because, in the midst of abundance, their wants will not 
be forgotten. 

In the full fruition of all these blessings, the 
fountain^ ^f the past come gushing up to fill the heart 
with admiration and love. Our past history is rich in 
glorious achievements, fully vieing with what Greece 
or Rome could boast in their palmiest days. The 
struggle of our revolutionary sires challenges, in vain, 
the history of the world for a parallel. Athena's 
defence by his "wooden walls" at Salamis yields 
precedence to the brilliant achievements of our Perry. 
Thermopylae gives place to Bunker Hill, and the 
laurels of Leonidas grow pale upon the halo of glory 
that encircles the brow of Warren. Our country, 
like all other republics that have preceded it, may 
find a place in the burial-house of nations, but its past 
glory is immortal. 

It is a historical fact, that Napoleon Bonaparte, 
whose very name did more to conquer, than tlj^ 


armies of other men, never gained a victory over 
an English army. He triumphed over Russians, 
Austrians, Prussians, Italians, and Spaniards ; but, 
over English valor, never ! He never broke an 
English line. But, those very troops that defeated 
the armies of Napoleon in the Peninsular war, and 
afterwards, at Waterloo, drove back the Conqueror 
himself, were, before this last great achievement, 
upon the plains of New Orleans, put to shameful 
route, by the chivalry of Tennessee and Kentucky. 
When the eighth of January shall be no longer 
reckoned among the days of the year; when the 
waves of the sea shall have covered New Orleans, 
and washed from her battle-field the last trophy of 
victory; then, and not till then, will the fame of our 
martial deeds be forgotten. 

"Lives there a man, with soul so dead, 
Who never to himself hath said, 
'' This is my own, my native land!" 

But, notwithstanding our highly favored situation, 
the elements of danger is mingled with our prosperity. 
We behold many of our citizens, greatly blessed as 
they are, seeking enjoyment where God has not placed 
it, in ignoble listlessness, or in the haunts of vice. 
Self-disposed, or self-condemned, they take no part 
on the world's busy stage, or fly from the harmony 
of fire-side affection, and the sweet endearments of 
domestic life, and seek to slake their thirst fog 


happiness, in the angry tumult of passion, and the 
bitter strifes of appetite. A host of evils follow in 
the train of this letting down the powers of the 
soul ; intemperance comes with its attendant evils ; 
idleness and misery, profligacy and crime ; to lay 
waste the hopes of the palace, and the peace of the 
cottage. It has been the shame and reproach of 
this great country. It has pervaded all classes 
and conditions of life— destroyed individuals, ruined 
famihes, corrupted the vital aim of society, and threat- 
ened destruction to civil liberty itself How many 
has it brought to degradation and misery, within 
the recollection of every one ? Have we not all 
witnessed the wasting away of the powers of the 
body, and the blasting the energies of the soul, 
under its withering influence ; until the manly form, 
and the proud spirit, were humbled in disease and 
crime, and grovelling appetite had supplanted every 
feeling of honor ; until friendship had lost its confi- 
dence, and love its sympathy, and the bitter gi-ief 
of wives, and the helpless wailings of children, pointed 
the sting of remorse, without arousing one effort to 
repentance, or exciting one generous struggle for 
amendment ? In its ten-ible march, the proudest 
intellects are levelled to the dust, and the purest 
affections are dried up at their fountains ; and the 
brave and the true, the beautiful and the pure, are 
made to share a common ruin, with the base, the 
treacherous, and the vile. 


But the danger to our free institutions has not 
©een confined to the listlessness, or wickedness, of 
individual citizens. Public men, under the baneful 
influence of passion, and the maddening excitement 
of contests for power, have lent the influefice of their 
high position to corrupt the public morals, ta destroy 
the supremacy of law, and to undermine the foundation 
of our government, But a little while ago, the 
materials of combustion seemed to have been collected 
together, and, needing but the application of the 
match to the magazine, to produce the most fearful 
explosion. The light of day would have blushed, 
■as it gleamed on steel drawn by brothers, to be 
sheathed in each other's hearts. The clash of hostile 
armor, the roar of cannon, as they told the hateful 
tale, that fathers, sons, brothers, and friends, had 
begun their work of death, would have awakened 
the ashes of the revolutionary fathers from their 
graves, with shame, for the degeneracy of their 

The time has been, and may be again, since the 
law-makers of many of our States have opened so 
wide the door of temptations to drunkenness, that 
the elective franchise was influenced, and base and 
unworthy men elevated to office, by pandering to 
'the vitiated appetites of the unfortunate. When the 
oractice of thus influencing the public mind shall 
become general, not to say universal, then will fly 
away, for ever, that preservation of liberty which the 


right of free suffrage gives. Then will arise some 
successful demagogue, who, after he has stultified 
the reason, and debased the morals of the sovereign 
people,, will overturn the liberties of his country, and 
erect, amid its ruins, a throne for himself, whose 
foundation shall be laid in crime, and which shall 
be cemented together by the best blood patriotism 
can offer upon the altar of its country. There lives 
not a man upon earth,- who has a more exalted 
opinion of the dignity of human natui'e, than we 
have ; or who acknowledges more fully, the civil 
and political equality of men, and the capacity of 
the people for self-government; but, we ask of man, 
as a pledge, that he does his duty j that he keeps 
his head cool, and his hlaod free frmn the exciiement 
of all stimulating drmhs. We have no manner of 
assurance, that any man will either think, or act 
aright, when under the influence of ardent spirits. 
It is a mere matter of chance, if iie does either. 

There is but one remedy. The people are the 
primary source of all political power. The laws 
are but a reflection of their real, or supposed wishes. 
They are the high court of appeals^, by whom all 
questions of legislation are lo be finally adjudged. 
The government itself, is but an instrument they have 
appointed for the better security of their property, 
and the promotion of their interests, Tc^ free from 
pollution this fountain of all power, elevate public 
sentiment, purify the piiblic morals, enlighten the 


public mind. In this, alone, is safety to be found. 
Then will the aspirant to office fear to seek public 
trusts, by temptations to vicious indulgences ; and all 
Buch attempts shall be repulsed with scorn and disdain. 
The fear of shame will then have more terror, than 
any punishment the law can inflict. 

Whatever others may do, while our Order, as a 
body, will stand aloof from all struggles for political 
power, let each member contribute all the influence 
he may command, to advance the virtue and intelli- 
gence of the country, and give a proper direction to 
public opinion. And, whatever may be the fate 
of the glorious enterprise in which we are engaged, 
we pray all our readers, as citizens of this great 
country, the inheritors of the glory of the past, and 
the guardians of the hopes of the future, to go and 
do likewise. 


Of Nashville, Tennessee. 

The philosophy of the causes of drunkenness may be 
briefly stated thus : — 

First. An appetite for spirituous liquors is not 
natural to man ; and, therefore, is, wherever it exists, 
artificial or acquired. 

Second. Drunkenness is a social vice, into the habit 
of which men are drawn by the power of social 
influences, and, Ly the force of such habit, the artificial 
appetite is formed and confirmed. Eence, there is, 
perhaps, no instance to be produced, in which an 
individual has contracted the habit of drunkenness 
from its very beginning, in solitude, or separate 
from foreign influences operating to lead him in that 


Third, Artificial 'appetites, when once contracted,. 
are found more uncontrolable and obstinate than those 
which are natural; for the plain reason, that natural 
appetites have natural limits, within which it is much 
less difficult to keep, than to observe moderation in 
the indulgence of an artificial appetite, which, being 
itself unnatural^ has no natural boundaries for its 

Thus, for illustration, a young man is brought under 
the power of social influences, which first attract, 
then excite ; and this excitement amounts to a degree 
of mental intoxication which disarms him of his moral 
defence — a fixed resolve to stand firm in the way 
of duty and safety. Thus disarmed and mentally 
intoxicated by the charm of company, the splendor 
of the gay saloon, or the witching smile of beauty, 
he partakes of the inebriating draught. The barrier 
once passed, and the enemy will meet vnth less 
resistance, and still less at each successive assault, 
until a habit of drinking is formed; and he drinks 
from liahit until an unnatural appetite is created, and 
then drinks under the cravings of appetite; that 
appetite is limitless, and its only law is that of 
quenchless, insatiable thirst. Mental excitement, at 
first, led him to drink, and now having formed the 
habit and created the appetite, he drinks to produce 
that excitement. He subsists on preternatural excite- 
ments, and relies on artificial stimuli to produce 
mental excitement. And here it may be remarked. 


that life is sustained by stimuli; but while a natural 
stimulus, such as that produced by partaking of 
nourishing food, gives strength and healthful vigor to 
body and mind, an artificial stimulus, of whatever kind, 
excites or stimulates pretematurally, and in much 
higher degree than the natural ; the good effect of the 
first is permanent, entering by assimilation into the 
substance of the system, while that of the artificial 
reacts on both the mind and body — cannot be assimi- 
lated into the system— which labors to reject it — and 
leaves the subject as much below a natural standard 
of feeling and vigor, as it had previously -elevated 
him above it. 

And in this fact is to be perceived the great injury 
which must, in the nature of the case, result from the 
use of artificial stimulants. And, at the same time, it 
must be obvious, that, where artificial stimuli are 
resorted to, there can be no security against excess, 
because there is no natural boundary to restrain. The 
acquired appetite demands excitement, and that 
excitement but inflames the appetite to greater 
demands; while each attempt to meet that enlarged 
tlemand only enlarges it still more; the potation that 
mil aff'ord the desired quantum of excitement to-day, 
must be increased to produce the same effect to- 
morrow ; and the burning, quenchless thirst — like the 
horse-leach's daughter — unceasingly cries "srive, five." 
until the hapless victim, shorn of his strength, pen-erted 
in appetite, debased in feeling, and lost to principle^ 


honor, and duty, sinks beneath the spoiler's tyranny, 
wrecked and ruined, 

I^- then, this most ruinous vice comes of a forced' 
appetite, and that appetite is superinduced by the 
power of social influences; if the appetite be so 
insatiable in its cravings, how wise and proper is the 
ground taken in this excellent code — that of total 
abstinence^ for, short of this point, absolute security is- 
not to be found. And, further, in view of the premises- 
above, both the best means of guarding against the 
evil, and of effecting a cure- — where the cases are not 
absolutely incurable— are plainly suggested. The- 
efforts — preventive and remedial — inust be directed 
to the object of guarding the young against the 
seductive power of those social influences calculated^ 
to lead them into the dangerous snare. There is little 
danger that a young man of respectable standing and 
honorable principles, will be drawn, in the first: 
instance, into a low tippling house, and there be 
seduced into intemperate habits, because the whole 
appearance, society and accompaniments, are such as 
strike his feelings repulsively, and present no one 
attractive feature. Thei^e is no social influence there,, 
likely to entice him to evil, for he feels that the 
association would degrade and contaminate. But let 
him be invited by some gentleman of commanding 
influence and position in society, to accompany him 
to the splendid bar or elegant drinking room of a 
fashionable hotel or coffee house, where drunkenness 


fs never permitted, and only the most gentlemanly 
behavior is witnessed, and while there is much to 
attract, he perceives nothing repulsive — nothing of 
danger, and partakes without scruple and without 
fear; not from a desire to drink, for that he has not, 
but from a disposition to comply with what appears 
but a kind, a generous request of gentlemen in whose 
company he might very naturally consider it an honor 
to be associated. The acceptance on his part of such 
courtesy, demands of him its reciprocation, and a 
sense of honor — and not inclination — induces him to 
give the like invitation to those from whom he has 
received such civility, and thus early he becomes a 
leader of others to the gate of ruin — himself uncon- 
scious yet that its glittering portals open and gild the 
entrance to the "sides of the pit." Or, let the moral 
young man attend a convivial party, say at the house 
of a gentleman of first respectability; he goes, of 
course, with a sense of most perfect safety ; how could 
it be otherwise ? He goes to the house of an upright 
and honorable gentleman — perhaps a Christian — and 
into the society of cultivated and virtuous females, 
what can he have to fear? Were he in society 
of questionable chacacter, that fact would arm him 
against danger; but there he is off his guard, and 
his unsuspecting heart is thrown freely open to the 
pervading influences of the place and occasion, for 
he feels that he is safe, and posts out no sentinels 
But mark the result ; the laugh of miith, the flash 


of wit, the smile of beauty, the inspiration of music, 
the general gayety, the universal excitement — these 
have gradually and insensibly thrown their influences 
over him, and so gently, so charmingly, that he 
could not possibly suspect anything of evil present. 
He is, fully baptized into the spirit of the gay scene; 
he has inhaled a gaseous inspiration, until a sweet 
delirium has pleasingly bewildered his soul and 
obscured his moral perceptions. In the midst of this 
delicious intoxication of the heart, he is approached 
by a fair angel of earth — as he can just then readily 
believe her — who, with charming grace and blandest 
smile, presents him the vv^ine cup, and asks that he 
will partake. Her own lip is more deeply rubied 
by its tint, and how can he refuse] The wine 
sparkles more temptingly in the light of her sparkling 
eye and sparkling wit, and his capitulation is uncon- 
ditional and instantaneous. The mind was intoxicated 
before the inebriating bowl began its work, and 
the chances are, that, on that occasion, he will make 
rapid advances on the road to ruin, and will soon 
become fairly matriculated in habits leading to con- 
firmed intemperance. 

If this be not the literal history of a large proportion 
of those who have desponded by the road of drunken- 
ness to infamy and ruin, it at least exhibits the 
elements whose operation, in forms more or less 
diversified, work out those fearful results in most cases, 
if not in all. 


To guard, then, against the ravages of intemperance, 
in the young and exposed, every possible care should 
be taken, to prevent the fatal action of the pernicious 
social influences adverted to. This work should begin 
in the family ; the form of social organization first 
presented to the child's attention ; and there he should 
never see any indulgence in the use of intoxicating 
drinks, which would lead the untaught mind to infer 
the innocence of its use. Children believe, until 
convinced, reluctantly, to the contrary, that all the 
parent does, is entirely right, and may be imitated 
with perfect safety. Hence, thousands have been 
led into drunkenness by the example of parents, 
who used intoxicating drinks, as a beverage, but 
who, themselves, were never intoxicated. 

You may believe that you can indulge habitually, 
and yet without danger ; yet, if even this were 
admitted, it is still your sacred duty to make the 
sacrifice of abstinence, on the altar of your son's 
salvation from ruin; for, unless you do so, you have 
not, and cannot have, the least security, that, some 
years hence, a bloated, beastialized son, will not point 
to the temperate drinking of his father, as the first 
impelling influence which gave a downward direction, 
towards the deep infamy and degradation from which 
he shall look back, and. bitterly curse a religious 
]>arent's example, as the instrument of his destruction. 
A.nd religious parents who contend for moderate 
drinking, and practice it, will merit the terrible 


retribution of fallen and besotted sons ; for they 
act as if they* sought such a result; and, alas! but 
too frequently is this terrible infliction visited upon 

The usage has been, as social influences are 
strengthened and multiplied in any given case, to 
increase the use of artificial stimulants in like pro- 
portion ; and, in accordance with this absurd theory, 
is the custom still in some places, and with some 
persons. Hence, the man who performs his solitary 
labor, without the aid of spirits, or once thinking 
of them as necessary, would not yet attempt to have 
a " corn-husking," a " house-raising," a " harvesting," 
or the like, which brings together a number of 
persons, without providing for the occasion some 
kind of intoxicating drink. Herein the laws of a 
sound philosophy are directly contravened; for, while 
there can be no more necessity for this beverage in 
a large company, than in solitary labor, the danger 
of excessive indulgence is increased very much in 
the proportion of numbers. So, the family, that 
has no use for intoxicating beverages on ordinary 
occasions, would feel quite scandalized to have a 
wedding, or a '* party," without a suitable supply 
of wines, brandies, and the rest. If we look to 
complete sobriety in the country, as an object to be 
labored for, these improprieties must be abandoned ; 
and, especially, must every Christian set his face, 
like flint, against even the moderate use of spirits 


sand particularly against their use in circumstances 
where social influences combine to strengthen our 
enemy, and therefore render the measure more 

A very important part of this duty is, to employ 
all lawful efforts for the suppression of houses for 
retailing intoxicating drinks, and, above all, those 
of the respectable and fashionahle sort. Many men 
may be found, who arc quite ready to join in a 
spirited crusade against low tippling houses, kept 
by ruffians, and patronized by the abandoned and 
vulgar, who will, with equal spirit, resist any attempt 
to curtail the privileges of the elegant coifee-house, 
or fashionable hotel, under an impression, that the 
foraier, and not the latter, are doing all the mischief 
in society — making all the drunkards. 

This is utterly a mistake. Few, if any, drunkards, 
are " manufactured fiom the raw material," at the 
low grog-shops. True, when they become too poor, 
or too degraded, for the higher circles of respectable 
drunkenness, they are kicked out of the fashionable 
drinking-house, where gentlemen, only, are allowed 
to get drunk, in a decent and respectable way; and 
then they are advanced, by regular graduation, to 
a place among drunkards, at a filthy dram-shop. 
But, in point of fact, one fashionable bar will be 
found to matriculate more " freshmen " into the school 
of drunkenness, than ten of the most loathsome grog- 
shops to be found. Your son may visit the latter, 


and not improbably his sense of moral propriety and 
common decency would be so shocked, as to produce 
disgust and loathing ; but, in the other case, the 
inviting elegance of the establishment, the gentility 
!)f the company, and the whole assemblage of circum- 
stances, would be likely to exert an attractive influence 
over the youthful mind, well calculated to bewilder 
and lead astray. Christians, patriots, and the lovers 
of order and morality, owe it to the Church and to 
the world — to the present generation, and those 
future — to make a determined effort to guard against 
the spread of this alarming evil. 

So much for the proper means of preventing intem- 
perance ; and for the means of remedy, or cure, 
we must look to the same elementary principles. 
If intemperance be a social vice — that is, dependent 
on social influences for its production — then, the only 
effectual remedy must be sought in social influences 
of a counteracting character. The influence, direct 
cind immediate, of other men, has operated to drag 
the victim down from his proper place in society, 
and the influence of others must be employed for 
his re-elevation to his lost position. 

In this vie\v of the subject, all organizations, which 
tend to embody public sentiment, and, at the same 
time, aid and encourage the victim in his effort to 
recover from the snare of the enemy, ought to be 
liberally encouraged. Temperance organizations have 
done much good, both in protecting against danger, 


and in restoring the fallen ; and, whatever apparent 
force there may seem to be, in the objections com 
monly urged against them, none can avail to excuse 
a Christian, or patriot, from co-operating, if he believes 
that, in so doing, he can do good to himself or others. 
The cause, in organic form, has suffered much from 
the standing aloof of many who take their stand, on 
the plea, that, being themselves entirely temperate, 
they have no need of the protection of a public 
pledge; and that, in signing one, they would seem 
to acknowledge their inability to live soberly without 
that aid, and would classify themselves with the 
intemperate, or, at least, with reformed drunkards, 
which they are unwilling to do. To this argument 
it may be sufficient to reply : First. That the absolute 
safety of any man who allows himself to indulge in 
intoxicating drinks, however moderately, must be 
looked on as a questionable matter. But, secondly, 
suppose his own safety does not require the measure, 
perhaps that of his family does ; for, children, finding 
their parents in that habit, infer that it is right; and, 
not having discernment to discriminate between the 
moderate and immoderate use of the article, (and, 
indeed, few, if any have,) they are easily led to pass 
over the limits of moderation, far enough to form 
an appetite for alcohol, and then the case is well 
nigh desperate. And, indeed, it is difficult to conceive 
of a more certain and effectual mode of making 
drunkards, than that of some temferate men, and 


professors of religion, in attempting to cast odium 
on temperance movements, by way of protecting them- 
selves in their course of refusing their co-operation. 
Thirdly. One grand object of these organizations, 
is, to lead the fallen back to virtue and temperance ; 
and this cannot be done, unless the lost can be induced 
to feel the sentiment of self-respect, vv^hich is not to 
be effected by putting them off from the respectable 
portion of society, into a class composed exclusively 
of " reformed drunkards." This would be, to mark 
them as a distinct, and, in some degree, odious 
caste, unfit to be associated with any other class ; 
or, at best, doing quarantine duty, until it shall be 
proved that they have become disinfected of their 
moral leprosy. When, however, upon a pledge of 
determination to refonn, they are incorporated with 
a respectable organization, comprehending the best, 
most temperate, and honorable members of the com- 
munity, they feel that they are not friendless and 
outcast, and an ennobling feeling of self-respect is 
the effect. How much concern, then, has he for the 
reformation of the intemperate, and the well-being 
of society, who regards his morning dram, his brandy 
at dinner, or his glass of vdne, too great a sacrifice 
to be made for the recovery of the fallen and the 
good of his species 1 And yet it is but too pi'obable, 
that there are not a few Church members, and 
professors of the religion of Christ, in this unenviable 


As to the manufacture and sale of intoxicating 
Jiquors, by professors of religion, it is certainly out 
of character, and at once calculated to bring odium 
on religion, and to strengthen the cause of intern 
perance. There are many persons, not professing 
religion, who are conscientiously opposed to such 
conduct ; and when men say, " I am not a professor 
of religion, but I would not be guilty of doing what 
your Church-members do," then is Christ's cause 
wounded in the house of his professed friends. So, 
again, when the grog-shop keeper is admonished 
of the impropriety and injurious effects of his calling, 
he feels himself mailed, in stronger than steel armor, 
when he can say, " Professors of religion make it, 
and professors of religion sell it to me, at wholesale ; 
but I, being too poor to deal in it on so large a 
scale, only sell in smaller quantities to others, what 
your good Church-members have sold to me." Now, 
suppose it were admitted, that the acts in question 
are not positively unlawful, in the light of God's 
word ; yet, certainly, they are highly " inexpedient," 
as being calculated to bring dishonor on the holy 
religion of the Lord Jesus. And, if the honor of 
God, and the interests of man, demand the sacrifice, 
where is the friend of the Saviour who will refuse 
to offer the oblation on the altar of duty? 




Of Columbus, Mississippi. 

"I AM glad you have come, William," said Idella 
Pemberton to her husband, as he entered the room, 
late one frosty night, in November. " I feel lonely, 
here, as the night-winds beat against the vi^alls ; and 
Agnes has been worse all the evening. William, 
I know your business in town, is such, as to demand 
your constant attention ; but, will you not try and 
spare yourself from it, so that you can spend your 
evenings with me, until our little babe is free from 
the danger of another paroxysm? It frightens me 
so much when you are away. After she gets well, 
I will try and resign myself to your necessary 

■jj:, hlUH'iS OF Vi:Mi'l'AiM-iCK. 

Her kind words, and pleading eyes, went to 
the heart of William Pemberton, who, drawing her 
affectionately to his bosom, replied, " Yes, Idella, I 
have neglected you and our dear little Agnes too 
lotior. I premise to watch with you, until she is 
quite well. To-morrow evening, I will bring out a 
collection of books from town, and our hours of 
watchfulness shall pass pleasantly away/' 

" You are very kind to me, William," said Idella^ 
while tears, such as she had not shed for weekSj. 
gathered in her eyes. 

William Pemberton was a young man of high 
and generous feelings. Having received a liberal 
education, under the direction of his uncle, and 
possessing a handsome patrimony, he embarked in 
the mercantile business, in one of the loveliest village 
of the South. 

It was there that he saw Idella Manson. She 
%vas just seventeen, and such v/as the gentleness 
and amiability of her disposition, that a few months' 
association was sufficient to win his affection. He 
wooed her, and was successful. They were as 
happy a pair as ever knelt at the bridal altar j 
and none that gazed upon him, as he stood, in 
the manliness of his youth, or upon ♦ her, as she 
trembled, beneath a robe of purest white — beautiful 
emblem of a spotless heart — and were united in the 
most hallowed relation on earth, would have dreamed, 
that shadows would ever darken the brightness of 


that path, in whose flowery threshold they were 
then standing. 

At the time our story commences, they were living 
in a retired cottage home, a short distance from 
town. Two years had glided by, since their marriage, 
and unclouded had been the mom of their wedded 
love. The frank and ingenuous nature of William 
Pemberton, made him the easy subject of temptation ; 
and, unfortunately, his resistance was too unsuccessful. 
For some weeks, he had returned home late at 
night, and was silent, and sometimes morose. He 
gave, as an excuse, that the opening of his fall stock 
of goods required his constant attention ; and the 
confiding Idella, with a credulity inseparable from 
ti'ue affection, doubted it not. Perhaps, if she had 
marked, closely, the expression of his eye, and had 
narrowly watched his step, the wildness of the one, 
and the unsteadiness of the other, would have revealed, 
with too dreadful certainty, the danger he was in 
of fi^Jing a drunkard's grave. But, of this, she 
dreamed not. She knew he was not as he once 
was; but the voice of affection whispered for him 
an excuse, in the worldly cares by which he was 
surrounded. Of his absence, as yet, she had com- 
plained not; but, when her babe sickened, she 
ventured to plead for the company of her husband, 
and she prevailed. 

The recovery of Agnes was rapid. During the 
evenings which William spent at home, it seemed 


as if both had entered upon a new existence. All 
his former tenderness returned. He read to Idella, 
and hung around the couch of the little invalid, 
administering the needful restoratives, with a husband's 
kindness, and a father's love. When the child re- 
covered, William still spent his evenings witV his 
family, for a time, in rambling with his wife and 
child, or reading to the former. It was a season 
of quietude, and fire-side peace. Gradually, however, 
he returned to his former habits, drank deeper 
and deeper into the wine-cup, until it broke the 
bonds of moral restraint, and bound him in its 
damning vassalage. Idella — the gentle, the devoted 
Idella — was the last to believe William Peraberton 
a drunkard. 

It was a wild, stormy night, in the wdnter of 1846. 
The v^dnd blew in fitful gusts, and the snow fell 
through the clapboard roof of a miserable hovel, in 

one of the streets in — . Huddled around a 

few dying embers, in that vn'etched hut, was a pale, 
wan female, and two children — one, a daughter, about 
twelve; and the other, a son, apparently about six 
years old. The mother was sewing by the light 
of a broken lamp, suspended from the wall, while 
the daughter read to her the experience of a reformed 
drunkard, which had been slipped under the crazy 
door-shutter, by some unknown friend. This was 
the once happy Idella Pemberton, and her two 


children. Her husband had drank, until he was a 
sot — worse than that, he was a pauper. 

His property was gone, his kindness fled, and upon 
the feeble Idella and her daughter, fell the support of 
the family. She was a frail creature, and the sufferings 
of the mind, and the labors of the body, were wasting 
her away. It was apparent, that, without a change, 
she would soon be beyond the griefs that had wrung 
anguish from her bruised bosom. Yet she murmured 
not. Amid the want that frowned upon her, and the 
reproaches from her husband, she was uncomplaining. 
Her trust was in God. To him she had committed 
her cause, and upon him she rested for support. 

" Oh, mother ! what shall we do 1 Is there no hope 
now for my dear pa V exclaimed Agnes, laying down 
the piece, and weeping, as if her heart would break. 

"Yes, my child, there is hope in God. He has 
aaid, ' Call upon me in the day of trouble, and I 
will deliver you.* In him have I confided, and in 
him do I still hope. He has never forsaken us 
altogether, my daughter, nor will he, while we trust 
in him." 

"Dear mother, how can I bear it? You are 
dying every day, and when you are gone, what will 
become of me and my poor little brother Willie ? Oh, 
mother! can't we get father to join the Sons of 
Temperance ?" 

"Be calm, my child; the Lord is good, and will 
provide for y^u and your brother, should he take rae 


from you. You must go before him with all you? 
wants. Take your father's case to him, through 
Jesus Christ. Remember the promise, *Ask and you 
shall receive.' Cast your burden on him, and he will 
sustain you." 

" My dear mother, let us go to him now. Let us 
kneel before him here. I feel as if he would answer 
our prayers. I know he will. Oh, mother ! let us try 
him, and prove him even now." 

And in that lonely hour, while the wild wind was 
moaning piteously without, and coldness was pinching 
the sufferers within, did that girl and her mother bow 
before God, to test his faithfulness. And never did 
purer aspirations ascend to Heaven, than the pleadings 
of that suffering band. Never did angel watchers 
assist, by their mysterious ministrations, in a holier 
cause. It was the agony of the torn heart, as it 
groaned under the heavy sorrows of years. The 
vision of the past swept before the wretched Idella, 
and her soul seemed to embody all its hopes into 
one; and, staining it with the blood of Christ, she 
laid it before God, and plead for its realization. 
She wrestled — she struggled — she v^ept, as if her 
heart was crumbling beneath the intensity of its agony. 
She prayed for the reformation of her husband — for 
it to begin then — that moment — wherever he might be. 
Her words seemed to be the rising of faith, far 
above unbelief — the sunderings of its fetters — the 
laying of the torn, bbeding heart before God. "Oh, 


thou righteous Being!" she exclaimed, "who has 
promised help in need, hear, from thy lofty habitation, 
the wretched inmates of this cold hovel. Thou, who 
hast, in thy mysterious dispensations, banished me 
from the protection of paternal love, and who hast, 
for thine own wise purposes, left me and my little 
ones to struggle on in want and misfortune, look upon 
us in our misery, and grant our requests. Oh ! reclaim 
him, around whom my heart still clings, even in 
his degradation, and save him from eternal woe. 
Oh, heavenly Father! Oh, righteous God! I do 
believe — ^help thou mine unbelief. Bring him back to 
the path in which we once walked joyfully together, 

and " 

At that moment the door opened, and William 
Pemberton rushed into the arms of his kneeling wife, 
exclaiming, " Oh, my suffering angel Idella, your prayer 
is answered ! I have this night joined the Sons of 
Temperance, and if there is grace in heaven to aid 
a poor feeble man, my pledge shall be kept." 

" Amen !" responded the bewildered, weeping Idella. 
Oh, Idella! vnll you — can you forgive me all ray 
unkindness, my cruelty, and from this night forward, 
God being my helper, I will be a sober man, and 
seek to make J-ou happy." 

''Dear husband, let the past be forgotten," replied 
the happy wife, while she cried aloud in the delirium 
of her joy, " and let us trust in God for grace for 
the future." 


" Agnes, my daughter, will you forgive your father'* 
ankindness, and pray that I may never dep9,rt &om 
my resolution 1" 

"Oh, my dear father, I will love you better than 
I ever did, and will always pray for you," said the 
sobbing girl, as she threw her arms about her father's 
neck, and kissing away his tears. 

" And father," said "Willie, who stood by, weeping 
at the strange scene, " you will let me love you, and 
kiss you, like I do ma, won't youl" 

"Yes, my son, and strive to be worthy of it too,'*^ 
eaid th& father, as he pressed him to his bosom- 

The wind in its wild careerings, that night, swept 
not over a happier home, tlian the lonely hovel of 
William Pemberton. 

Years have passed, and William Pemberton, by 
sobriety, industry, and the aid of his friends, has 
regained his cottage home, and there, with his devoted 
Idella, to whose cheek the rosy hue of health had 
returned, and their children, he is spending his days in 

Is your husband a drunkard ? Be gentle and kind 
to him, and fray for Mm. 

Are you a drunkard, or a moderate drinker ? 
lleraember the wife of your bosom, the children of 
your love, and the soul you possess, which is of 
incalculable worth. May God bless this narrativ® 
H> your good- 



Of the Cumberland Presbyterian Church, Indiana. 

The age in which we live is marked by many 
and very auspicious peculiarities; one of which is 
the increasing number of persons who are disposed 
to inquire what is right, in reference to every 
important "principle or action. It is less satisfactory 
now than in any former period of the world's history, 
that a thing is pleasant, merely, or popular, or has 
the sanction of great antiquity. The question is, 
Is it right ? The Bible, by good men, has long been 
recognized in theory, as the only perfect and infallible 
standard of morals. But they are now, more than 
ever, applying it to practice. Not only are they 
laboriDg, with renewed vigor, to give it to all nations, 



and send its blessed influence home to every heart, 
but they are appealing to it as a criterion of thought) 
and endeavoring, with new diligence, to make it the 
sole standard and test of principle throughout the 
whole world. It is not so decisive now, as it once 
v/as, that a thing is legal according to human statutes; 
or honorable, according to the verdict of respectable 
society : but the question is, Does it accord with the 
will of God, as revealed in the Bible 1 This feeling 
is rapidly gaining ground. To the law and to the 
testimony; if men speak not according to this rule, 
it is because there is no light or truth in them. 
Nor is the Bible now Hmited to matters of purely 
a religious character ; but is extended to all the 
affairs and transactions of life. Business, amusements, 
legislation, everything in which men are engaged, 
are now undergoing the searching tests of this infallible 
teacher ; and even men's thoughts, feelings, and 
actions, are made to submit to its holy dictates. 

And the more they do the will of God, the 
plainer that will appears to them; and the benefits 
of obedience are more and more obvious and 
abundant. And, as that will is made known, it 
commends itself more strongly to the conscience ; 
the blessings of obedience attract more attention, 
and the numbers who are moved by it to mighty 
deeds of benevolence and philanthropy are increasing 
with a rapidity never before known in the world's 
history. Thus acting, ''light and love,"' the orrand 

I,10HT^ OF TE.MI'KllANCE. 30 j 

instruments of the world's renovaiion, are moviug 
onward from conquest to unis^ersal victory, inspiring 
with new hopes, and cheering with new expecta- 
tions, and exciting all who are governed by theiu 
to higher and holier efforts, that the " will of God 
may be done on earth as it is in heaven." 

A striking and most beautiful development of these 
principles has been made in the origin and progress 
of the Temperance reformation. 

The use of intoxicating drinks, with all its attendant 
evils, had received the legislative sanction, and the 
support of almost the entire civilized world ; even 
religion itself, had either looked with approbation, 
or was too timid to raise her warnino- voice, or 
kindle a beacon-fire to show the world the danger 
it was in, and point the way of escape. 

But the important question was started; Is it right? 
Is it in accordance with the Bible % The sacred 
rule was thoroughly examined ; God's providences 
were closely watched, and prayerfully studied ; divine 
direction was earnestly sought, every lawful test in 
the form of evidence was applied, which offered 
any hope of conducting to the right decision; and 
the conclusion was satisfactorily reached, that the 
use of intoxicating drinks was wrong, whether as an 
article of commerce, or as a beverage. 

The mass who led off in this noble and patriotic 
work, were mostly members of the Christian Church. 
They derived their evidence and motives. iVom the 


pure word of God. One main design — one object, 
which has ever been kept in view in this enterprise 
is, that, in order effectually to banish liquor from the 
land, public opinion should be brought to bear upon 
it with all its mighty and irresistible force. And, 
as the only way to accomplish this great work, every 
true friend has constantly inculcated the doctrine, 
that all should abstain from its use. 

Who, that has paid any attention to its history, 
and has seen any of its pernicious fruits, can doubt for 
a moment but that it is the scourge of the whole earth ? 
What injury is man capable of suffering which it has 
not inflicted upon him? Loss of time, property, 
health, friends, influence, character, and peace of mind 
are among the legitimate results of its use in any 
community or by any individual. With this view of the 
subject, and admitting these truths, as we are bound to 
do, how is it possible for any one claiming to be 
influenced by the common impulses of patriotism, to 
say nothing of those of religion, to withhold a hearty 
sanction, and active co-operation in a work which seeks 
to remedy all these evils. 

If the use of ardent spirits, as a beverage, or as an 
article of trafiic, is morally wrong, and is condemned 
by the Bible, then every church member is solemnly 
ibound, by arguments and motives, higher and 
stronger than those of mere patriotism or philan- 
thropy, to give his aid in every prudent and honorable 
way, to the advancement of the Temperance cause. 



The spirit of inquiry, which has swept tnrough 
the whole length and breadth of the land, has fully 
exposed the evil and destructive tendency of the 
use of ardent spirits. The laboratory of the chemist 
has shown, that disease and death are the inevitable 
consequences of its continued use. The observations 
<>f the philanthropist and statesman, have fully exposed 
its destructive power on the happiness, wealth, and 
patriotism, of a nation or community. While the 
examination of the theologian has shown, that, to 
make, vend (in large or small quantities,) or use, as 
a beverage, this accursed poison, is a direct violation 
•of the principles of right, as inculcated in the Bible, 
and utterly at war with the duties of a Christian. 

Hence, jurists of high claim to public confidence, 
for their intelligence and candor, have borne their 
testimony to a fearful amount of crime committed, 
and innumerable lives lost, by the operation of this 
single evil. One Judge says : " Of eleven cases of 
murder, all except one was occasioned by strong 
drink." Another says : " Of eleven murders under 
my immediate notice, all were the result of intem- 
perance." And still another says : "Of twenty murders 
examined by me, every one was occasioned by strong 
drink." These facts^ with many others of equally 
convincing character, are in the reach of every body ; 
they are known to those who are engaged in the 
traffic. It is equally well known, that thousands 
have abandoned the use of this article, with the 

304 I.iftHTS OF TEMPERAN't £. 

happiest results lo their bodily health, their 80cia^ 
happiness, their pecuniary prospects, and their religious 

Look at the indulgence in ardent spirits, in any 
aspect you may, and the conviction forces itself 
upon you, that it is morally wrong. It increases the 
temptation and facilities to drunkenness : and the 
practice of occasional drinking becomes the great 
recruiting officer for the array of drunkards. 

When a man becomes an habitual drunkard, 
he at once loses the respect and friendship of the 
intelligent and virtuous portion of the community. 
No one can respect the man who has ceased to 
respect himself; this every ilrunkard has done. He 
knows that his conduct is shunned and hated by 
the upright and pious. He feels that all, even 
his own family, look on him only to loathe him, 
and are often made to turn away from him with 
feelings of deepest mortification and disgust ; and, 
so far from having an influence to command respect, 
even his associates in crime and infamy have no 
confidence in him. Who was ever known to point 
to a drunkard, and recommend him as a model 
for his son, or his friend, to imitate ? Was it 
ever known, that the influence of a set of besotted 
inebriates gave tone and direction to public feeling 
and sentiment, in any intelligent community 1 The 
world's history does not furnish an instance of the 


Again: the habitual use of ardent spirits, not only 
excludes men from public favor, strips them of all 
good influence, and deprives them of the power of 
doing good, but shuts them out of Heaven. This, 
we ai'e aware, is a hard saying, and there are 
multitudes in our churches who will not be disposed 
to bear it. But we are honestly and clearly satisfied 
in our own mind, that the man who makes, or 
indulges in the habitual use of this liquid poison, will 
not be admitted into the kingdom of God. Is he not 
condemned by the Bible, which is our only standard 
in questions of morality ? One of the commands is, 
" Thou shalt not kill." It does not say thou shalt not 
kill with a knife, a pistol, a halter, or a bludgeon; 
nor does it say thou shalt not kill with opium ; nor 
yet does it say thou shalt not kill suddenly, or in a 
day, or a week, or in any given length of time, or 
deliberately, or with malice aforethought, and with 
an intention at the time to kill ; nor does it by any 
means tolerate murder for the sake of gain. It simply 
lays down, in clear and explicit terms, the principle 
by which the precious treasure of human life is to 
be protected ; and no considerations, except such 
as are pointed out in the Word of God, will ever 
justify any man in the violation of this rule. 

The medical profession, generally, tell us, that 
the indulgence in ardent spirits is not only useless, 
but, in all cases, injurious to health, and tends, directly, 
to death. A fact which the experience of thousands. 


throughout the civilized world, has clearly demonstrated. 
No man, then, can persist in its use, and be guiltless 
before Heaven. He is, indeed, a murderer ! and, 
if there is a fate reserved for one, more dreadful 
than another, it certainly awaits the man who thus 
deliberately destroys his life. 

But, if it is thus with the poor inebriate, who, by 
the indulgence of a vitiated appetite, has hun:ied 
himself out of time, into the presence of his God ; 
how is it with the man who has made him his 
Tictim, and has furnished him with the means of his 
destruction ? Shall the victim be denied a place in 
heaven, and his seducer go unpunished 1 Justice 
answers, No. The word of God forbids it. 

If a man follows a business, or does an act, the 
natural or probable consequence of which is death, 
is he not guilty ? does he not, in the premises, 
become a murderer ? and ought he not to be punished 
as such ? 

"Who can avoid the conclusion, that the trade in 
ardent spirits, to be used as a beverage, tends to 
Idll ; and that it does kill ; and that those who 
continue to deal in it, are, as they justly deserve to 
be; hated and shunned by the truly philanthropic 
and pious ; and they will receive the reward of the 
murderer at the bar of God. 

But, many attempt to avoid the force of these 
arguments, by saying, that it is not dealing in 
ardent spirits, but the use of them, which makes 


men idle and vicious, and leads them to destruction ; 
and that the sin attaches to the act of drinking, and 
not to the act of selling. As well might the traitor, 
who makes weapons of war, and furnishes them to 
the enemies of his country, say, there is no harm in 
making them, or in giving them to the enemy ; the 
harm is in using them. "Would such sophistry serve 
to screen the wretch from the execration of every 
patriot, or protect him from the full penalty of the 
law? Certainly not: neither will it avail with the 
retailer of ardent spirits. 

We appeal, then, to Christians, who are bound, 
by the relation which they sustain to God and his 
Church, to do all in their power to promote the 
cause of morality. 

It is not enough, that the principles of the Bible 
govern them in their faith, and forms of devotion ; 
but, it must be carried out in their practice before 
the world. It must govern them in eating and 
drinking, buying and selling, and in all the ti'ans- 
actions of life. And, as the buying and selling of 
ardent spirits, as an article of trade, and habitually 
using it, as a beverage, is proved to be a sin, we 
hold, that every Church member is bound, solemnly 
bound, to abstain entirely from all participation in 
the practice; and, if they do not, they are guilty, 
as accessories to all the poverty, crime, degradation, 
and death, which may result from the continuance 
of this vile and vicious habit. 


We say to the farmer, suffer not the product of 
your fields — the fruit of your toil — to be prostituted 
to the evil purpose of distillation. Are you a landlord, 
and have houses to rent — positively refuse to hire 
them out for taverns, or coffee-houses, vi^here strong 
drinks are kept and sold. Are you a merchant, act 
the part of a true philanthropist and benefactor to 
your country, and exclude the accursed thing from 
the articles offered by you to your customers. Are 
you a lawyer, cease to prostitute your talents and 
your professional influence, to advocate the claims 
of alcohol, in the persons of those miserable and 
guilty men who live by destroying others. Are you 
a minister of the gospel 1 On you, to a very gi-eat 
extent, depends the success or failure of this great 
and glorious enterprise. Look, we beseech you, 
brethren, at the utter impossibility of the Spirit of 
God reaching, successfully, that conscience which is 
seared and scorched by strong drink. Think of the 
amount of reproach and disgrace inflicted on our 
Churches by disorderly members, who are made so 
by drunkenness ; and let the consideration stir the 
deep fountain of feeling in your hearts, and prompt 
you to vigorous action in the cause of Temperance. 
Are you a private member of the Church 1 God 
has said, " Ye are the light of tlie world." You 
occupy a high and responsible ground ; on you, in 
connection with others, devolves the work of reforming 
and saving the world. To you we look fi-r help in 


this work ; if you refuse, or hesitate, we despair 
If you act your part, victory is certain. 

Go forward, then ; yours is the cause of patriotism, 
of humanity, and of our holy religion. It must 
triumph. '* Be strong, and faint not." " Put on the 
armor of God ; pray with all prayer and supplication 
in the spirit, and watch thereunto with all perse 
verance." " Be not weary in well doing ;" and let 
us ever keep in view, that holy precept of God's 
holy law, which binds us, to do unto others as we 
woull wish them to do unto us. 


Pasi&r of the Second Presbyterian Church, Louisville, Kff. 

It is the object of this essay to state the prmcipleo 
laid down in the word of God, respecting the use 
of intoxicating liquors. This object will be sought 
by arranging, in classes, the most important passages 
of Scripture relating to the subject. They will be 
compiled in such manner as to supercede, as far as 
may be, the necessity of explanation; so that the 
Bible may be left to speak its own sentiments, and 
the reader may deduce his conclusions therefrom, 
unembarrassed by suggestions from other quarters. 

The passages here cited relate to seven topics; 
the various stimulating liquors in use among the 
Hebrews ; their use in the offices of religion ; their 
medicinal qualities ; their use as beverages ; the sin 
of intemperance ; its punishment ; and its remedy. 





Three kinds of stimulating drinks were in use among 
the Jews: — urnie, mixed wine, and strong drink 

Wine. — This was the simple juice of the grape. 
It was obtained by gathering the clusters of grapes 
and throwing them into the wine vat, or wine press, 
where they were probably first trodden by men, and 
then pressed. See Rev. xiv. 18 — 20 : Rev. xix. 15. 
The Hebrews sometimes called new wine, teerohsh. 
" Thus saith the Lord, as the new wine is found in 
the cluster," &c. Isaiah Ixv. 8. " Thy presses shall 
burst out with new wine." Prov. iii. 10. They used 
also the word gahsees, to signify new wine. " Howl, 
all ye drinkers of wine, because of the new wine." 
Joel i. 5. 

In the New Testament, the Greek word yxivxoi, is 
translated new wine " These men are full of new 
wine." Acts ii. 13. 

The word usually employed in the Hebrew Scrip- 
tures, for wine, is yahyin. It is so used in about one 
hundred and thirty-seven places. The word employed. 


with the same meanmg, in the Greek Testament, is 
ewoj; and is found in thirty-three places. 

Mixed wine. — This beverage was prepared by 
minghng intoxicating substances, myrrh, and other 
aromatics, with pure wine. The Hebrew name for 
this was mimsahck. " Who hath woe % They that 
tarry long at the wine, they that go to seek mixed 
vnne." The same word is translated " drink offering," 
in Isaiah Ixv. 11. 

Strong drink.- — The Hebrew name for this beverage 
was shehchalir. It included the various intoxicating 
liquors obtained by the Hebrews from honey, dates, 
grain, &c. " It is not for kings to drink wine ; nor 
for princes strong drink." Pi-ov. xxxi. 4. " Wine is 
a mocker, strong drink is raging." Prov. xx. 1. 

The word in the Greek New Testament, for strong 
drink, is rftxtpo. "He shall drink neither wine nor 
strong drink." Luke i. 15. The word is found in 
no other place in the New Testament. « 


These several beverages possessed the intoxicating 

New wine. -^On the day of Pentecost, the enemies 

af the Aposiles charged them with being drunken, 


saying, " These men are full of new loine" Acts ii. 13. 
This insinuation implies, that new wine was well 
known to be intoxicating ; for Peter replied, ** These 
are not drunken as ye suppose." 

Wine. — That this beverage was intoxicating, appears 
from many passages of which these are specimens : 
" Be not drunk with wine, wherein is excess." 
Ephesians v. 18. " Who hath woe ? &c. They 
that tarry long at the wine," &c. Proverbs xxiii. 
29 — -35. " And T^oah began to be a husbandman, and 
he planted a vineyard : and he drank of the wine, and 
was drunken." Genesis ix. 20, 21. " Look not thou 
upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth his color 
in the cup, when it raoveth itself aright. At the last 
it biteth like a serpent, it stingeth like an adder." 
Prov. xxiii. 31, 32. 

Mixed wine. — " Who hath woe ?" &c. *' They that 
go to seek mixed wine." Prov. xxiii. 29 — 35. 

Strong drink. — " Strong drink is raging." Prov. 
XX. 1.*" " I was the song of the drunkards," in the 
margin, " drinkers of strong drinks." Psalm Ixix. 12. 
" They are drunken, but not with wine ; they stagger, 
but not with strong drink." Isaiah xxix. 9. This 
implies, that drunkenness is produced by wine ; and 
Btaggering by strong drink 





Wine was used in the religious sacrifices of the 

" Now this is that which thou shalt offer upon the 
altar; two lambs of the first year day by day con- 
tinually. The one lamb thou shalt offer in the 
morning j and the other lamb thou shalt offer at even ; 
and with the one lamb a tenth deal of flour mingled 
with the fourth part of an hin of beaten oil | and the 
fourth part of an hin of wine for a drink offering." 
Exodus xxix. 38. " And the fourth part of an hin of 
wine for a drink offering shalt thou prepare with the 
burnt offering or sacrifice, for one lamb." Num. xv. 5. 
See also verses seventh and tenth, of the same chapter. 
" And when she [Hannah] had weaned him, [Samue]| 
she took him up with her, with three bullocks, ana 
one ephah of flour, and a bottle of wine, and brought 
him into the house of the Lord in Shiloh." % Samuel 
i. 24. 

'316 LienTs of temperanck. 


JVine is appoiTded to he used in the Sacrajnent o/" 
the Supper. 

" After the same manner also he took the cup, 
when he had supped, saying, This cup is the new 
testament in my blood •, this do ye, as oft as ye drink 
it, in remembrance of me." 1 Cor. xi. 25. 


Strong drink was, in a single instance, employed in the 
Hebrew sacrifice. 

" In the holy place shalt thou cause the strong wine 
to be poured unto the Lord for a drink offering." 
Numbers Kxviii. 7. The Hebrew word here translated 
"- strong wine," is shehchahr, the word for strong drink. 
Critics have, however, generally supposed that it 
means, in this place, strong wine. Compare Exodus 
xxix. 38 — 41, where the same offering is described, 
and xoine is mentioned as the drink offering. 





Wine and strong drink were used medicinally. 

" Give strong drink unto him that is ready to perish, 
and wine to those that be of a heavy heart. Let him 
drink, and forget his poverty, and remember his 
misery no more. " Proverbs xxxi. 6, 7. " Drink no 
longer water, but use a little wine for thy stomach's 
sake, and thine often infirmities." 1 Timothy v. 23. 


Wine, mingled loith drugs, were administered to persons 
about to he executed. 

The object was to lull their sense of pain, and allay 
their fears. It is said, that certain compassionate 
women, at Jerusalem, were accustomed to prepare^ 
this mixture. It is thought, that such a mixture was 
offered to our Saviour at his crucifixion. " And they 
gave him to drink, wine mingled with myrrh : but hci 
received it not." Mark xv. 23. 





The use of " mixed toine" is no where mentioned in 
the Scripture with tolerance. 

This mixture is referred to, as a striking symbol 
of the Divine displeasure. 

" In the hand of the Lord is a cup, and the wine 
is red ; it is full of mixture, and he poureth out of 
the same: but the dregs thereof, all the wicked of 
the earth shall drink them." Psalm Ixxv. 8. "O 
Jerusalem, which hast drunk at the hand of the Lord 
the cup of his fury ; thou hast drunken the dregs of 
the cup of trembling, and wrung them out." Isaiah li. 
17. " And great Babylon came in remembrance 
before God, to give unto her the cup of the wine of 
♦the fierceness of his wrath." Revelation xvi. 19. 

This language shows that the cup of mixed wine, 
was a cup of intoxication and trembling ; that the 
stimulating substances found in the bottom of the cup 
were bitter and horrible dregs ; that this cup, and its 


mixtures and its dregs, were expressive images of the 
fierceness of the wrath of Almighty God. There is no 
place in Scripture, where the use of mixed or medicated 
wine is spoken of without expressions of deep abhor- 


The Scriptures speak of the use of ^^ strong drink" 
with uniform disapprobation. 

" Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging." Prov. 
XX. 1. " Woe unto them that rise up early in the 
morning, that they may follow strong drink ; that 
continue until night, till wine inflame them." Isaiah 
V. 11, "Woe unto them that are mighty to drink 
wine, and men of strength to mingle strong drink." 
Isaiah v. 22. " But they also have erred through wine, 
and through strong drink are out of the way ; the 
priest and the prophet have erred through strong 
drink, they are swallowed up of wine, they are out 
of the way through strong drink ; they err in vision, 
they stumble in judgment." Isaiah xxviii. 7. 


The use of " strong drink " was, hy a special dispensa- 
tion, allowed to the Jews once a year, on a solemn 
and joyful occasion. 

" And thou shalt bestow that money for whatsoever 
thy soul lusteth after, for oxen, or for sheep, or &r 


wine, or for strong drink, or for whatsoever thy soul 
desireth ; and thou shalt eat there before the Lord thy 
God, and thou shalt rejoice, thou, and thy household." 
Deut. xiv. 26. 


The moderate tise of wine, as a beverage, was customary 
among the Hebrews, and was not 'prohibited by their 

This position is sustained by numerous allusions in 
the Old Testament. As it is not disputed, so far as 
we are aware, we will not detain the reader, by a 
citation of passages wherein this appears. 

It should be remembered, however, that the wines 
now in use differ, materially, from those known to the 
ancient Jews. It is ascertained that our wines are 
re-inforced by the addition of alcohol, sometimes in 
large quantities, so that they are far more intoxicating 
than the pure wines of Judea. It is also notorious, 
that our wines are often adulterated with various 
destructive drugs ; so that what passes among us as 
wine, is an intoxicating and poisonous compound of 
the juice of the grape — alcohol, logwood, sugar of lead, 
and other pernicious ingredients. It resembles the 
mixed or medicated wine, which is treated in the 
Bible, not as a wholesome beverage, but as an emblem 
of the fierceness of God's wrath. We cannot, there- 
fore, justify even the moderate use of our wines, by 
what the Bible says of the pure wine of Palestine. 


They fall, the rather, under the reprobation with 
which the Divine word brands the use of " mixed 



To certain persons, however^ the use of toine was 
absolutely prohibited. 

The priests of the Lord were forbidden to drink 
it, when they engaged in their sacred duties. 

" And the Lord spake unto Aaron, saying, Do not 
drink wine, nor strong drink, thou, nor thy sons with 
thee, when ye go into the tabernacle of the con- 
gregation, lest ye die : it shall be a statute for ever 
throughout your generations." Leviticus x. 8, 9. 
In the preceding context we have an account of the 
offering by Nadab and Abihu, of strange fire before 
the Lord, and of their terrible punishment. It has 
been suggested, that they were intoxicated when 
they committed the offence, and that the above pro- 
hibition grew out of this circumstance. " Neither shall 
any priest drink wine, when they enter into the inner 
court." Ezekiel xliv. 21. 

Nazarites were required to abstain totally frons 
wine and strong drink. The Nazarites were persons 
who separated themselves from the world, and devoted 
themselves, by a vow, to the exclusive service of God, 
The following, from Numbers vi. 3, 4, is one rule 
of the order: "He shall separate himself from wine 
and strong drink, and shall drink no vinegar of wine, 


«r vinegar of strong drink, neither shall he drink any 
liquor of grapes, nor eat moist grapes, or dried. All 
the days of his separation shall he eat nothing that is 
made of the \'ine tree, from the kernels even to the 
husk," The rule was exceedingly rigid, and com 
prehensive ; prohibiting the use, not only of wine 
itself, but of any thing which might possibly awaken 
an appetite for it. 

Intoxicating drinks wez'e not permitted to princes 
or kings. " It is not for kings to drink wine, nor for 
princes to drink strong drink ; lest they drink, and 
forget the law, and pervert the judgment of any of the 
afflicted." Prov. xxxi. 4, 5, 

From these Scriptures it appears, that three classes 
of the people were required to practice total abstinence. 
These were the priests, or religious teachers ; th© 
princes, or magistrates; and the Nazarites, or those 
devoted to practical piety. If the spirit of these rules 
were universally observed, how much purer would be 
the Church ; how much wiser the legislation of the 
country ; and, how much more perfect the administra- 
tion of all our affairs, civil and religiouci ! 

A few indi\'iduals were required to practice total 
abstinence. Manoah's wife,, the mother of Samson, was 
cautioned by an angel, thus : " Now therefore bewarCsr 
I pray thee, and drink not wine, nor strong drink." 
Judges xiii. 4. Hannah, the mother of Samuel, said^ 
" I have drunk neither wine nor strong drink." 1 
Sara. i. 15. Of John the Baptist it was predicted, bjf 


the angel, " He shall drink neither wine nor strong 
drink." Luke i. 15, 

The case of the Rechabites is memorable. In the 
time of Jehu, king of Israel, Jonadab, the son of 
Rechab, laid an injunction on his posterity, for ever, 
not to drink wine, or plant vineyards, or build houses, 
or hold lands; but to dwell in tents all their days. 
They observed this injunction for above three hundred 
years. When Nebuchadnezzar came to beseige 
Jerusalem, the Rechabites were forced to take refuge 
in the city. During the seige, Jeremiah offered them 
wine to drink. They refused it, saying : " We will 
drink no wine ; for Jonadab, the son of Rechab, our 
father, commanded us, saying, Ye shall drink no wine, 
neither ye nor your sons for ever," &c. Then came 
the word of the Lord, reproving Judah, saying, " The 
words of Jonadab, the son of Rechab, that he com- 
manded his sons not to drink wine, are performed ; 
yet, I have spoken unto you, rising early, and speaking, 
out ye hearkened not unto me," Then, addressing 
the Rechabites, he promised : " Because ye have 
obeyed the commandment of Jonadab your father, and 
kept his precepts, and done according to all that he 
hath commanded you ; therefore, thus saith the Lord 
of hosts, the God of Israel ; Jonadab, the son of 
Rechab, shall not want a man to stand before me for 
ever." Their history is contained in the Book of the 
Prophet Jeremiah, 35th chapter. 



Jesus and his disciples appear to have occasionally 
used wine, or at least to have allowed the temperate 
tise of it. 

" And the third day there was a marriage in Cana 
of Galilee; and the mother of Jesus was there. And 
both Jesus was called, and his disciples, to the 
marriage. And when they wanted wine, the mother 
of Jesus saith unto him, They have no wine. Jesus 
saith unto her, Woman, what have I to do with thee ? 
mine hour is not yet come. His mother saith unto the 
servants, Whatsoever he saith unto you, do it. And 
there were set there six waterpots of stone, after the 
manner of the purifying of the Jews, containing two or 
three firkins apiece. Jesus saith unto them. Fill the 
waterpots with water. And they filled them up to 
the brim. And he saith unto them. Draw out now, and 
bear unto the governor of the feast. And they bare it. 
When the ruler of the feast had tasted the water that 
was made wine, and knew not whence it was, (but 
the servants which drew the water knew,) the governor 
of the feast called the bridegroom, and saith unto 
him, Every man at the beginning doth set forth good 
wine ; and when men have well drunk, then that which 
is worse : but thou hast kept the good wine until now. 
This beginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana of 
Galilee, and manifested forlh his glory ; and his 


disciples believed on him." John ii. 1 — 11. This 
passage, describing the marriage at Cana of Galilee, 
shows that our Lord made wine, and ordered it to be 
presented to the governor of the feast, who pronounced 
it, " good wine." 

" For John the Baptist came neither eating bread, 
nor drinking wine; and ye say. He hath a devil. 
The Son of man is come eating and drinking ; and ye 
say, Behold a gluttonous man, and a winebibber, a 
friend of publicans and sinners I" Luke vii. 33, 34. 



Drunkenness prevailed from the earliest ages of the 

" And Noah began to be an husbandman, and he 
planted a vineyard ; and he drank of the wine, and 
was drunken ; end he was uncovered within his tent." 
Genesis ix. 20, 21. This took place about twenty-three 
centuries and a half, before the birth of Christ. 

*' And it come to pass, when he heareth the words 
of this curse, that he bless himself in his heart, saying, 
I shall have peace, though I walk in the imagination 
of mine heart, to add drunkenness to thirst : the Lord 


will not spare him," &c. Deuteronomy xxix. 19. 20. 
This was spoken by Moses, about fifteen hundred years 
before the coming of Christ. 

" And Nabal's heart was merry within him, for he 
was very drunken." 1 Sam. xxv. 36. This was five 
hundred years later. 

Elah, king of Israel, " was in Tirzah, drinking 
himself drunk in the house of Arza." 1 Kings xvi. 9. 

" But Benhadad [king of Syria,] was drinking him- 
self drunk in the pavilions, he and the kings, the thirty 
and two kings that helped him." 1 Kings xx. 16. 
These events occurred a hundred years still later. 

" I was the song of the drunkards." Psalm Ixix. 12. 
Written by David, yet later. " "Woe to the crown 
of pride, to the drunkards of Ephraim." Isaiah xxviii. 
1. " Awake, ye drunkards, and weep." Joel i. 5. 
" For while they be folden together as thorns, and 
while they are drunken as drunkards, they shall be 
devoured as stubble fully dry." Nahum i. 10. " But 
and if that evil servant shall say in his heart. My lord 
delayeth his coming ; and shall begin to smite his 
fellow-servants, and to eat and to drink with the 
drunken," &c. Matthew xxiv. 49. " They that be 
drunken, are drunken in the night." 1 Thess. v. 7. "Be 
not drunk with wine, wherein is excess." Ephes. v. 18. 

It appears from these Scriptures, that intemperance 
is a vice, as old as the sin of lying, or murder, or 
idolatry ; it has pervaded all the generations of the 
race ; it is one of the great characteristic, unsubdued 


sins of human nature. It rests upon the character 
of mankind as one of its foulest stains, and has been 
transmitted from generation to generation, an un wast- 
ing legacy of corruption, and madness, and death, 


The intemperance described in the Scripture is, spedji- 

cally, the same vice as that now prevalent under the 


The Scriptures which describe the symptoms and 
effect of drunkenness, apply, with perfect accuracy, to 
the sin as it now prevails, 

'• Who hath woe ? who hath sorrow ? who hath 
contentions? who hath babbling? who hath wounds 
^vithout cause ? who hath redness of eyes ? They that 
tarry long at the wine; they that go to seek mixed 
wine." Prov. xxiii. 29, 30. "They have caused Egypt 
to err in every work thereof, as a drunken man 
staggereth in his vomit." Isaiah xix. 14. "The priest 
and the prophet have erred through strong drink, they 
are swallowed up of wine, they are out of the way 
through strong drink ; they err in vision, they stumble 
in judgment. For all tables are full of vomit and 
fikhiness, so that there is no place clean." Isaiah 
xxviii. 7, 8. " For the drunkard and the glutton shall 
come to poverty." Prov. xxiii. 21. " Drink ye, and 
be drunken, and spue, and fall, and rise no more." 
Jeieraiah xxv. 27. This graphic picture of the ancient 
sin is true to the life ol' modern drunkenness. 



The drunkenness denounced in the Scriptures proceeded^ 
from the use of wine as xvell as strong drink. 

The word of God makes no difference between 
mtemperance in the use of wine, and intemperance in 
the use of other intoxicating substances. Wine, mixed 
wine, and strong drink, are in many passages grouped 
toofether in the denunciations of God's word. It has 
been pretended by some, that the wine of Scripture 
was not highly intoxicating, because alcohol was not 
distilled until about the tenth century after Christ, 
But, in the first place, the Scriptures affirm, that the 
wine then in use was intoxicating- and, secondly, 
alcohol, or the intoxicating quality, is the product of 
firmentation, and not of distillation. The latter 
process does not create the alcoholic substance,, it merely 
separates it from the liquid, in which firmentation has 
developed it. The following Scriptures show that 
wine and strong drink are placed on the same footing 
as to their disastrous effects. 

" Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging." Pro v. 
XX. 1. " Who hath woe, &c. They that tarry long at 
the wine, they that go to seek mixed wine." Proverbs 
xxiii. 29. The priest and the prophet have eired 
through strong drink, they are swallowed up of wine," 
&c. Isaiah xxviii. 7. " Come ye, say they, I will 
fetch wine^ and we will fill ourselves with strong drink." 
Isaiah Ivi. 12. " Woe to them that rise up early in 


the morning, that they may follow strong drink ; that 
continue until night, till wine inflame them." Isaiah 
V. 11. "And the Lord spake unto Aaron, saying. Do 
not drink wine nor strong drink, thou, nor thy sons 
with thee," &c. Leviticus x. 8. " It is not for kings, 
O Lemuel, it is not for kings to drink wine ; nor for 
princes, strong drink." Proverbs xxxi. 4. " Woe to 
them that are mighty to drink wine, and men of strength 
to mingle strong drink." Isaiah v. 22. 


Drunkenness is associated in Scripture, with the most 
heinous sins. 
The apostacy and infamy of priest and prophet are 
traced to this vice, in Isaiah xxviii. 7. " The priest 
and the prophet have erred through sti'ong drink, they 
are swallowed up of wine, they are out of the way 
through strong drink; they err in vision, they stumble 
in judgment." " Whoredom and wine, and new wine, 
take away the heart." Hosea iv. 11. " Be not 
deceived ; neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adul- 
terers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with 
mankind, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunJcards, nor 
revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom 
of God." 1 Cor. vi. 9, 10. " Now the works of the flesh 
are manifest, which are these, adultery, fornication, 
uncleamiess, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, 
variance, emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, 
envyings, murders, drunkenness, revellings, aLd such 


Hke." Galatians v. 19 — 21. *' The time past of our 
life may suffice us to have wrought the will of the 
Gentiles, when we walked in lasciviousness, lusts, 
excess of wine, re veilings, banquetings." 1 Peter iv. 3. 
Such is the foul company in which, according to the 
word of God, the drunkard is found; such the associa- 
tion in which his crime against God and man is placed. 
It is so now. Intemperance is intimately connected 
with every scarlet sin, and every appalling crime. Its 
affinities are ever with Sabbaih breaking, blasphemy, 
gambling, rioting, stealing, violence, and murder. If 
the conception of Fisher Ames were realized — a 
resurrection at the foot of the gallows — -we should see 
that almost every ghastly victim of the law's vengeance, 
was first a victim to drunkenness. 



God proTwunced a woe upon the sin. 
*' Woe unto them that rise up early in the morning, 
that they may follov/ strong drink ; that continue until 
night, till wine inflame them. And the harp, and the 
viol, the tabret, and the pipe, and the wine, are in their 
feasts : but they regard not the work of the Lord, 
neither consider the operation of his hands. Therefore, 


my people have gone into captivity, because they have 
no knowledge ; and their honorable men are famished, 
and their multitude dried up with thirst. Therefore, 
hell hath enlarged herself, and opened her mouth 
without measure, and their glory, and their multitude, 
and their pomp, and he that rejoiceth, shall descend 
into it." Isaiah v. 11 — 14. 


Under the Mosaic law drunkenness was punishahle 
with death. 

" If a man have a stubborn and rebellious son, which 
will not obey the voice of his father, or the voice of his 
mother, and that, when they have chastened him, will 
not hearken unto them ; then shall his father and his 
mother lay hold on him, and bring him out unto the 
elders of his city, and unto the gate of his place; and 
they shall say unto the elders of his city, This our son 
is stubborn and rebellious, he will not obey our voice ; 
he is a glutton, and a drunkard. And all the men of 
his city shall stone him with stones, that he die." Deut. 
xxi. 18—21. - 

On this passage it is proper to remark, that the code 
of Moses was distinguished for the mercy of its judg- 
ments, and the mildness of its punishments. In this 
respect, it was a wonderful advance on all the criminal 
codes then in force. Even down to the age of Eliza- 
beth, the law of England punished no less than one 
hundred and fifty offences with death ; while the laws 


of Moses, promulgated more than thirty centuries 
earlier, in a rude and barbarous age of the world, 
limited capital punishment to about thirteen crimes. 
One of these, so punishable, was drunkenness ; marking 
God's abhorrence for the sin. 


Excommunication from the Christian Church was 
applied to this sin. 

" But now I have written to you not to keep com- 
pany, if any man that is called a brother be a fornicator, 
or covetous, or an idolater, or a railer, or a drunkard^ 
or an extortioner ; with such an one, no not to eat." 

1 Cor. V. 11 


Future suffering in hell is appointed for the final 
punishment of the sin. ^ 

" Neither fornicators, nor idolaters — nor drunkards, 
— shall inherit the kingdom of God." 1 Cor. vi. 9, 10. 
" Now the works of the flesh are manifest, which are 
these, adultery — murdeis, drunkenness, revellings, and 
such like; of the which I tell you before, as I have also 
told you in time past, that they which do such things 
shall not inherit the kingdom of God." Gal. v. 19 — 21. 


God will also punish him who tempts others to cmnmit 
this sin. 
•' "Woe unto him that giveth his neighbor drink, that 
puttest thv bottle to him, and makest him drunken also, 


that thou mayest look on their nakedness ! Thou art 
filled with shame for glory ; drink thou also, and let 
thy foreskin be uncovered : the cup of the Lord's right 
hand shall be turned unto thee, and shameful spewing 
shall be on thy glory." Habakkuk ii. 15. 



As to ourselves, total abstinence is the true and certain 

" Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when 
it giveth his color in the cup, when it moveth itself 
aright. At the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth 
like an adder.*" Prov. xxiii. 31, 32. 


Total abstinence is the means, by example, of aainng 
others from the sin. 

" It is good neither to eat flesh, nor to drink wine, 
nor any thing whereby thy brother stumbleth, or is 
offended, or is made weak." Romans xiv. 21. 

"Wherefore, if meat make my brother to offend, I 
will eat no flesh while the world standeth, lest I make 
my brother to offend." 1 Cor. viii, 13. 


Ccmcluding Remarks. — It is indispensable to the 
success of the temperance cause, that it be urged by 
arguments drawn from the word of God. That word 
furnishes the most graphic descriptions of intemperance, 
its immediate symptoms, and the inevitable ruin it 
draweth after. It suggests, also, the infalHble remedy 
for the evil — total abstinence from all intoxicating 
beverages. It urges this abstinence on the safe and 
ratioi ai ground of Christian expediency. If all the 
advocates of the cause had " searched the Scriptures," 
none of them would have been betra.yed into the 
untenable positions connected with the "wine question;" 
they would not have denied, that the wines of Palestine 
possessed the intoxicating quality ; nor would they have 
declared that the most moderate use of pure wine is an 
evil in itself, just as murder, or lying, is essentially and 
inherently wicked ; nor, above all, would any have been 
hurried to the fanatical extreme of questioning the 
propriety of using wine at the Lord's table. Total 
abstinence as the remedy, this abstinence placed on the 
o-round of Christian prudence as to ourselves, and 
Cliristian charity as to other men, this is the true 
Scriptural doctrine. It is a tower of strength for 
those who espouse the great cause of temperance. 
The motives revealed in God's word are, also, most 
persuasive. The physician tells us, that intemperance 
undermines the constitution, and shortens the life of its 
victim ; observation informs us, that this vice enfeebles 
the intellect, inflames the baser passions, and turns the 


man into the maniac, the idiot, and the brute ; the philan- 
thropist affirms that it destroys the peace of thousands, 
and the patriot warns us of its disastrous influences on 
the commonwealth. But the argument, strong as it 
is, derives an overwhelming power from what the Bible 
reveals respecting the fiery and eternal doom of the 
drunkard. Rags, nakedness, filth, the hospital, the 
mad-house, the prison, the gallows, the grave — these 
describe the present penalties of intemperance. But 
the Bible opens the dark bosom of the future, and 
discovers HELL as the inevitable doom of the 
drunkard, and its torments as his eternal portion. 

Now the advocates of temperance should not cast 
away the formidable weapons which the Bible puts 
into their hands. They should not discard from the 
argument, the authority of God over the conscience, 
and the force of his eternal wrath over the fears of 
mankind. It were a most unhappy mistake to separate 
any good cause from the Scriptures, the Church, the 
Sabbath, and the Ministry, and to attempt to urge it 
forward independently of Christianity, or in antagonism 
thereto. We must hold by the Bible as the text book, 
the Church as the foundation, and the Sabbath and 
tlie Ministry as the instruments of every good work. 

Nor should we give countenance, for a moment, to 
the idea, that total abstinence from intoxicating liquors, 
is identical with true religion. Temperance is a 
Christian grace; but it is, by no means, the whole of 
Christianity. There is a higher virtue, one indispen- 


sable to salvation, and tliat is, faith in Christ, with love 
to G-od. A man may be sevei'ely temperate, and yet 
lose his soul. We do not read that Judas and Ilerod, 
and Julian the Apostate, were diunkards. Yet, how- 
wicked their lives, how desperate their end ! The 
bloody Mary was not intemperate, nor was Voltaire, 
nor Robespierre; yet hov/ far were they, and how far 
are multitudes as temperate as they, from the kingdom 
of God ! 


Louisville Ky. 

The lover of nature, though he may live in the midst 
tf a beautiful, extensive, and variegated vale, does not 
cease to look upon it with admiration. From 
time to time he admires the rugged mount and 
anon rambles through some pleasant valley, that he 
may gratify the propensities of his soul ; yet custom, to 
him, never deprives him of the wonder and astonish- 
ment, the beauty, the regularity and order which 
nature's works hath created within his bosom. 
The grandeur of nature, its sublimity and unanimity 
of formation, will ever strike a sensitive chord, and 
cause vibrations to which the mind will recur with a 
degree of inward ecstacy and delight. 

Does nature thus affect, and can we be insensible to 
those things which concern the moral culture of man, 

t© those things, with vvbich are connected the present 


and eternal welfare of the most wonderful and myste- 
rious compositions of God 1 

No ! the voice of the philanthropist has been heard 
abroad, the warnings of the Christian Patriot have 
been borne through the streets of Askelon, and 
proclaimed upon the Hills of Zion, to evidence the 
concern of a few, for the thousands upon whom the 
god of this world has been laying violent hands, and 
precipitating down to that dark and dreary cavern, the 
chamber of death, the allodium of Lucifer and his fallen 
ano-els. But the fact continues a melancholy one, that 
it is only the concern of a few for the thousands. To 
secure good to man, has been the earnest desire and 
fervent prayer of many a pious heart and benevole'nt 
hand ; but, in developing the means, an opportunity has 
not been unfrequently afforded to execute and indulge 
the very worst feelings of the human heart. And, 
sometimes, under the specious name of philanthropy, 
the most incendiary and iniquitous plans have been 
carried out; fanning with its wings, like the vampire bat, 
and draining the very life's blood of society. 

To do good, the means devised should always be 
of that benevolent character, that surveys the universe 
as one great family ; that contemplates man in his 
two-fold relationship of mortality and immortality; 
that regards society as always changing, and always 
improving, as it is brought legitimately and uni- 
foimly under correct and enlightening moral influ- 


"We Know not how it is, but there is something grand 
and spirit-stiring in the review of the past, and in 
trying to watch and measure influences that, from time 
to time, have been brought to bear upon the frame 
work of society. 

It is like wandering through the dim twilight, amidst 
the ruins of palace, tower, throne, and tomb, to find 
the imperishable imprint of some immortal mind, the 
tracery of some God-like deed of benevolence. 

It is like the geologist exploring the unfurrowed 
bowels of the earth, or ascending the cloud-capt summit 
to make some fugitive fossil, the chronological record 
of that earthquake which rolled back old ocean from his 
coral bed, and left the craggy cliff the silent witness 
of his giant strength. 

It is like lifting up the heavy drapeiy that hung in 
chaotic folds upon nature's first night, to watch the 
bosom of the virgin earth heave with life, or catch the 
early kiss of the morning's dawn upon her ruby lips, 
to look upon creation in her bridal robes, with her 
jewelry — the diamond fragment of ten thousand worlds, 
now decking her brow with the flowers of spring, 
then holding in her lap the golden treasures of 

We say there is a thrilling witchery in such contem- 
plations as these, and, though we cannot name, or 
named, cannot determine the amount of influence 
thus contributed by each in the aggregate improvement 
and elevation f)f our species, yet we flatter ourselves 


that, in the present great Temperance movement, we 
have found one of those secret and hidden springs, in 
that great magic, moral machinery, from which emanate 
those impulses and principles that shall speed to its 
consummation this so earnestly prayed social reform. 
Impulses and principles finding their foundation deep 
in the wants and interests of the human family, carrying 
with them their own inherent and unconquerable force, 
and telling upon the destinies of men with an energy 
which bespeaks their origin divine, 

Should the question be asked, What is the most 
enduring principle on earth ? the answer must be, 
Benevolence ! In the expressive phraseology of the 
Bible, " Love is stronger than death." 

Every great movement, if it be based in the kindly 
affections of the heart, if it have love for its element, 
must prosper and go on its winning way through 
opposing difhculties to its triumphant and consummated 
conquests. Such is the benevolence of the Order 
of the Sons of Temperance, and this the pledge 
of their continued prosperity and success. A living 
heart spring, which commences with our own refor- 
mation, the restoration of our families to peace, 
iiappiness, and plenty, and then flows on through every 
department of society. 

It is benevolence that invests this association with 
all its grace and beauty, transforming it into an angel 
of light, that, in her errands of mercy in the world, 
follows the wanderer through all the excesses of 

LIGHTS oi" 'rf:.MPKKANcL:. 34I 

intemperance, even to the sinks of his deepest 
degradation : when successful in restraining him, pauses 
a moment to rejoice ; when unsuccessful, stops to weep. 

None are pronounced incurably corrupt ; none are 
abandoned as utterly hopeless. At her quiet step the 
groan of misery is hushed, and by her gentle touch the 
tear is wiped away from sorrow's cheek. She stretches 
forth her hands over the turmoil of life, stilling the rude, 
rough surges of sorrow, and arching up the sky of the 
saddened ones with the beautiful colors of peace; while 
around the fireside of the reclaimed, she scatters the 
bright ornaments of serenity and joy. 

Let us trace the progress of reformation in one 
single case, and bear it in mind as a stimulus to 
increased and persevering effort, that eternity will 
reveal thousands such. 

An ardent noble-souled young man, seduced by the 
siren charms and hollow blandishments of pleasure, is 
led aside from the bright path of honor. He falls-~ 
not at once — but gradually giving way, in a moment 
of untold agony, he finds that his fair, beautiful name 
is a loathing among men ; all his glorious aspirations 
of fame, all the silvery lustre of his pure visions 
of respect, virtue, and honor, and the tender images 
of his earlier affection, at one dark blasting moment are 
covered over with sackcloth. But sensation still throbs 
in his heart, feeling still lingers in his shattered nerves, 
and still a blush has power to redden his pale, blanched 


He knows that the elegant circles ot the refined and 
gentle are now ck)-ed against him. He feeh that h^ 
is shunned as a monster, whose presence is disgusting, 
whose touch is contamination, and whose example is as 
fatal to honor and virtue, as the baneful shadow of the 
upas tree. For a moment despairing, thunder-struck, 
overwhelmed with the avalanche of his own misfortunes, 
he stares, like a wan unsheeted gho^t, upon objects 
that once gave him pleasure. 

Hear him soliloquizing — Oh memory, tell no more 
to my bleeding heart, what I once was in such fearful 
contrast to what I now am. Tell me not of that loved 
one, whose heart was mine in honor's holy bonds ; bat 
who now looks upon the bloated, blistered face of a 
drunkard. Tell me not of the anguish of that fond 
mother, upon whose bosom I was once nursed. Tell 
me not of my aged father's whitened locks, disturbed 
by the breezes that come up from the sepulchre, 
into which he will soon go down. Tell me not of my 
family, that I have pierced with untold and unspeakable 
sorrows. . 

Desperate was the struggle. Like a shipwrecked 
one, left to contend with the battling elements, with 
only a plank left to ride upon the angry foam. 
Stern energy with an iron hand laid fast hold upon 
nis very heart strings. He comes a stranger to knock 
at your portals. The kindly welcome breaks upon his 
ear. The very air is loaded with the gushing song ; 
and feeling like one who had not a sympathy wedded 


to the earth, he looks up, and, instead of the cold averted 
face of the heartless, and suspicious, he sees the pityino- 
eyes of friends streaming for him — f>nd, pure hearts, 
are throbbing for him. His honor is pledged, " That 
evil shall no longer be his good." The voice of a 
sacred brotherhood shout to him, " That he is free," 
absolved — restored to home, society, love, honor. The 
tide of his emotions drive him to his hearth and fire- 
side — so long deserted by its only accredited protector, 
so long desolate. 

That midnight picture might have been in the eye 
of a writer, w^ho, in portraying such a scene of horror 
Bays : — 

"Within a chamber pale and dim, 
A pale wan woman waits in vain, 
Through the long anxious hour for him 
Away — in want and wasting pain. 
A babe upon her knee is pining, 
Its winning smiles all scared away. 
She almost hopes the sun's next ray 
May on its calm cold corpse be shining. 
Poor watcher ! he comes not, she dreams 
Perchance of her old home, and now 
Upstarting with a lurid brow, 
Clasps the habe closer to her breast, 
That dying child, yet loved the best." 

'Tis not the wife of the Son of Temperance, that 
shrinks at his approach, still lingers about his ear like 
mellow music. The agony of the bereaved mother is 
lost in the joy of a reclaimed '"isband, and, as she laya 


her sleeping innocent in its cradle coffin, she looks up 
to catch the first indication of returning joy to her 
fireside ; like a ray of light at midnight's hour, from 
a far off distant world. 

Again the current of his feeling drives him to the 
cross. For, if man forgives the wanderer, surely 
Heaven can. Again he dares look up, and the cherub 
of mercy presents to his feverish lip the cup of salva- 
tion, " the water of which, if a man drinks, he thirsts 
no more," 

"With such facts before us, it may seem strange that 
there should be found in all God's universe, one so 
lost to all the better feelings of our common nature, 
as to interpose a word, or act, in the successful prosecu- 
tion of so laudable an enterprise. 

They shout, " He is mad," because " he reasoned 
of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come." 
In the language of an eloquent Divine, " If 
reproaches must fall, let them not rest upon this 
hallowed enterprise; let them rather gather about the 
brutal husband, who gorges himself with liquor, and 
makes a hell of his once quiet home; who rolls the fiery 
flood of ruin over the beauty, the constancy, the affec- 
tion of his once happy loved one. Let the scowl of 
bitter rebuke be frowned upon the wretched homicide, 
who sells him the wine of wrath, and measures out 
his wife's tears by the pint and gallon ; who sells naked- 
ness by the jug-full, to his poor unoffending hungry 
children. Let curses, like the red-winged lightning 


blast those hissing seething brews of strong drink — 
whose fires send up clouds as dark, and stench-like as 
those that hung upon the smouldering cities of the 

But let American citizens rejoice that, in our land, 
the fires of moral and social reform have been lighted 
up, that will flash so resplendently amid the gloom of 
corning ages. 

This is, emphatically, a great American enterprise ; 
and, a^an American citizen, we cannot describe the full 
flow of heart pleasure we have realized when we have 
witnessed the mighty achievements of this splendid 
moral reform ; accomplishing, in a day, the wonders of 
almost a century; like Aaron's rod, budding, and blos- 
soming, and being harvested in a night. 

There are those, however, whose objections, less 
capriciously indulged, deserve to be more courteously 

It has been thought by some, and no doubt honestly 
too, that .the secrecy connected with this association is 
essentially objectionable. We answer: Every associa- 
tion has its nucleus, upon which its prosperity and 
peipetuity depends, and from which, as a common 
radius, it sends forth its diffusive influence upon society, 
safely and beneficially. 

To secure from imposition, and to give permanency 
to this institution, this element has been formed in its 
organizations. If the same amount of good could be 
accomplished, and accomplished as certainly and fully 


without it, we would rejoice to have men and angels 
inspect ouf doings. But surely, the benefits we propose 
to confer, are not to be rejected because the impulses 
that originate and control are as hidden as the unborn 
mysteries of nature. The genial, warm, and life-giving 
power of the vernal sun, is not to be discarded, because 
this fountain of light has never been penetrated by the 
far reaching gaze of the telescope. The rich coral 
that decks the brow of beauty, is not the less to be 
valued, because its ocean bed remains unfaihomed. 
The gentle winds that fan our foreheads, are not less^ 
balmy and refreshing, because their home has neve? 
been found, and their rapid flight has bid defiance ta 
the giant sweep of the eagle's wing. 

Cool and clear v/as the fountain that bubbled up 
before Hagar and Ishmael; and, however unseen the 
hand that gave the spring, the fugitive exiles did not 
rejoice the less in the blessing. 

" Give us only that fluid which trickles down th© 
bright sides of our American mountains," and, however 
remote and sequestered the retreat, however unexplored 
the fountain bed, it will be nature's own chrystal wave^ 
reflecting the image of Him, the "invisible Author 
of all good." Too much capriciousness has been 
indulged, in the objections which have been made to 
the simple and unpretending paraphernalia of the asso- 
ciation. These objectors, no doubt, are the legitimate 
descendants and successors of the long-faced Pharisees, 
who, though they mrn^c broad tl'f plTvlactories in their 


own garments, found iault with that great pattern and 
patron of temperance, John the Baptist, who came only 
with camel's hair for his vesture, and a leather girdle 
about his loins, " neither eating, nor drinking," and they 
said, " He hath a devil." 

A disposition so ungenerous, the blessed Saviour was 
not slow to rebuke, in terras of stern and righteous 
indignation. He rolled back the charge of inconsistency 
upon the accusers, and presented a triumphant vindica- 
tion of this great water-man, by asserting, " Wisdom is 
justified of her children." 

To ansv/er all the questions, or to silence all the 
objections which may have been started upon this 
subject, is a result not even hoped for, much less 
intended ; but we must notice the self-satisfied religion- 
ist, who says : " Christianity is enough, is all." 

In nothing is the wisdom of the Great Founder of 
our holy rehgion more distinctly seen, than in permitting 
us to form within the boundless circumference of 
Christian charity, as many smaller circles as we please, 
only requiring that our affections should operate in 
them, as under the conti'ol of a superior and controllino- 
principle, intended to regulate all the subordinate move- 
ments of our nature. 

Such was the conviction of that servant of God, 
Jonadab, the son of Rechab, who, though true and 
faithful, did not regard the collateral claims of humai:iify 
as conflicting v/ith his high and holy obligations to 
heaven. And who covenanted with his brethren, " to 


drink neither wine nor strong drink," and who consti- 
tuted that first Division, not of the Sons, but of the 
Patriarch of Temperance. 

It is true, that this association cannot do all, noi 
does it propose to do all, that religion can accomplish, 
but she can do something. Like the Patriarch 
Jacob, we may not say, *• I have seen the Lord 
face to face, and have prevailed by prayer. " But 
with Job, we may say, "I deliver the poor that 
cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none 
to help. The blessing of him that was ready to 
perish came upon me, and I caused the widow's heart 
to sing for joy. I put on righteousness, and it clothed 
me, my judgment was a robe ani^ a diadem. I was eyes 
to the blind, and feet was I to the lame, I was a father 
to the fatherless, and the cause which I knew not, I 
searched out." Like Simon, we may not bear the 
cross, but, we may give " a cup of cold water," in the 
name of Christian kindness, and look for our recom- 
pense to Him that has assured us, " We shall have 
more than a disciple's reward." 

We recur, then, to the sentiment, that there are 
emotions of the sublime, in the moral as well as in the 
physical world. We recal a scene, which was full of 
exciting interest to us then, as the recurrence is now. 
As the weary sun had just pillowed his head, upon the 
broad bosom of the west, along the long line of the distant 
horizon, dark and portentous clouds were seen rapidly 


rolling up in thick and heavy columns, skirt and covered 
with lurid sheets of fire, spreading out their dark 
pinions, and threatening to bury in uncli6tiugaii^;hi.'d 
desolation, temple and forest, palace and cottage ; but 
the livid lightnings, as they darted from the angry storm 
cloud, were caught upon the glittering steel capped rods, 
and borne harmlessly to the earth. 

Dark and fearful was the gatliering storm of intem- 
perance which blackened our moral heavens ; a cloud 
that came in gloom and sadness, over the sunny skies, 
and laughing prospects of youth; a scowling storm that 
hung heavily around the homes of the aged ; a tornado, 
that swept over all that is bright and beautiful i:i 
society. But the Sons of Temperance threw up their 
total ahstinence lightning rods, for the protection of 
themselves and their families ; and upon the retreating 
cloud, God, in his providence, placed " the bow of 
promise and hope," upon which the timorous and dis- 
trustful looked, and were inspired w ith confidence. 

There was a time, to us, at least, when the novelty 
of city scenes imparted interest to every thing. We 
remember it well. The stillness of midnight was inter- 
rupted suddenly by the watchman's hoarse cry. Fire ! 
Fire ! Fire ! And the alarm bells startled the dreamer 
from his pillow, and the iron shod engine, with its well 
disciplined corps, shook the pavement, like the move- 
ment of a young earthquake, and every man ran with 
his " fire bucket," and here and there a company with 
a sc-aling ladder, each man putting forth the utmost of 


his strength, to arrest the fury of the flames, and never 
stopped for a moment to inquire, what influence his 
physical energies might exert. As we looked upon their 
efforts, we could but feel there was subhmity in the scene. 
But our enthusiasm has been almost uncontrolled, when 
we have gazed upon a«cene of still higher moral interest. 
The cry of " Fire ! liquid fire," has been heard, in tones 
of exciting alarm through the land, and with hurried 
step, each man runs with his bucket of cold water, and 
each Division with its engine of moral power, and the 
shout goes up with a thousand voices, " On ! on ! on ! 
my hearties /" until every grog shop in the land shall 
be deluged with cold water ; until the fires in every 
distillery, shall have been extinguished. 




ClarlsviUe. Term. 

Few men have left so lasting an impression upon 
the world as did Lord Bacon. The practical 
application of the piinciples of his inductive system 
of philosophy is hastening the world on to the 
fulfilment of its destiny, with a velocity which would 
have been as ruinous to any former age, as it is 
advantageous to the present. The rapidity with which 
causes are followed by their consequences, the means by 
wliidi investments are rendered productive of large 
and speedy profits, the splendid discoveries which have 
marked the career of modern science, and the 
feverish excitement with which mankind are pursumg 
mere physical good, may all be attributed, either 
immediately or rem.otely, to the revolutions wrought 
by this wonderful man in the world's modes of 
thinkins? and acting. 


Nor, have the advantages accruing to us from the 
labors of this remarkable genius, at once " the glory 
and shame of England," been confined to physics 
merely, but mincf!, freed from the lung bondage of ages,. 
in which it vi^as held by the puerile sophistries of the 
Aristotelian school of philosophers, has been sent forth 
upon a career of self-enlightenment and iuventif)n. 
unparalleled in the history of our race. The physical 
sciences and their great colaieral, the science of civil 
government, are struggling on in every part of the 
civilized world, through darkness and blood, to per- 
fection. The uproused energies of man seem directed,, 
almost exclusively, and too often blindly, to the removal 
of physical evils; for, after all, it is a question worthy 
of serious consideration, whether man's moral nature 
and condition have been bettered, in any degree,. 
comparable with his physical. Has not the concen- 
tration of thought, and feeling, arrd action, upon the 
latter, necessarily resulted in the neglect of the former? 
Has not our proclivity to evil diverted our instru 
mentalities for real good from the legitimate fieli 
of their operations 1 

The interests of the whole of man's nature — physical 
mental, and moral, must be cared for in exact pro- 
portion to their respective importance, or consequences 
most fatal to his happiness as an individual or as a 
race will unavoidably follow. If the 'physical only 
be regarded, he will become practically an atheistic 
epicure, making all happiness consist in the gratification 


of passion and appetite ; if the intellectual, he will 
become a refined and sensual sceptic ; but, if the 
entirety of his nature be equally under the influence 
of impulses and restraints, each cultivated and trained 
for its r&spective duties, tJien., and not till then, may he 
hope to enjoy all of which his nature is capable in the 
present mode of being. 

But failing properly to estimate the importance of a 
state of high moral culture, and to labor for its 
securement, constitutes, perhaps, the most lamentable 
defect (,)f the age. Much, unquestionably, has been done 
during the last half century to elevate this department 
of our common nature, from the foulness and infamy 
which have covered it for centuries past, and the 
present affords many cheering omens, that, if the noble 
work be vigorously plied, no very distant future will 
witness the emancipation of our race from the 
enthralments of vice, and its elevation to that lofty 
station of moral purity and gi'eatness, which it is the 
object of all our blessings ultimately to secure. Man's 
moral nature, in the great march of life, has taken no 
step backwards : for the world is evidently growino- 
better as well as wiser ; yet its relative motion has been 
a retrogression ; the other departments of his nature, 
having outstripped this in the eventful race. We would 
not have the former retarded, but we would smite off the 
weights that fetter and enfeeble the latter, and add a 
fresh impetus to it which would send them to the goal 
of their destiny together. The religion of the adorable 


Saviour, which towers in peerless and eternal grandeur 
above every other remedial scheme, alone can effect 
this great task. Yet it is by human instrumentalities 
that even slic v/ould secure human good : for we have 
" the treasure in earthen vessels," But subsidiary to the 
Church, in the work of human weal, are Sabbath 
Schools, Missionary, Bible, Tract, Colonization, and 
Temperance Societies. Indispensable as is each of 
these (and each is so indispensable that a part of the 
great moral field would be without a laborer if it were 
to retire, and we wish all God speed) yet it is the 
object of this volume, and of this paper, as part of it, to 
call the attention of American citizens particularly to 
the evils of intemperance and the m.eans of its removal. 

Perhaps no single evil has done so much to defer the 
period of man's moral jubilee, to undermine and 
paralyze his energies, and to thwart the purposes 
of his being, as intemperance : for its practice is a 
direct infraction of every principle constituting a 
virtuous character, and is a voluntary' subjugation of 
reason, and judgment, and conscience, to insatiable 
appetite and licentious passion. Pemit us to specify 
some of its evils, and urge upon you to apply' the 
remedy : — 

I. To man's pJiysical organism the use of alcoholic 
drinks, as a beverage, is inost Jatally deleterious. With 
out going into a chemical analysis of alcohol, or 
specifying the particular tendencies of its elements, 
permit us to remark, in general terms, that being 

LlGHTsi OF TEMrKUAN!;E. 355 

incapable of digestion, and highly volatile, it readily 
leaves the stomach and passes into the olood, where it 
courses the veins in torrents of fire, parches the lips, 
sears the brain, paralyzes the manly arm. and 
ultiraates in death. By increasing vital action it seems 
to strengthen, but, in fact, enfeebles and destroys the 
vital functions. The heart, and lungs, and stomach, are 
exposed, without protection, to its ravages; and con- 
sumption, liver complaint, dyspepsia, apoplexy, and 
a legion of chronic diseases, follow on in its dreadful 
wake. It frequently brings its unfortunate victim to his 
death couch with delirium, wild as a tempest at 
midnight upon his brain. A score of fire demons 
leap, and grin, and dance, and laugh around his last 
pillow. Serpents, emblematic of the one that never 
dies, nestle in his bosom, and spit their foul slime in his 
face ; while scorpions fasten on his back and brow, and, 
forcing themselves into his mouth, gnaw his tongue and 
heart. He is dying of mania a potu, 

"The fittest earthly type of hell." 

This is no fancy sketch. Would to heaven it was : for 
the imperfect but terrible picture, finds its original in 
thousands of cases, annually, thoughout our country. 
There are more than three Jiundred thousand inebriates 
in the United Slates of America ; more than ten times 
as many as have ever rallied at one time under our flag, 
to meet the foe of freedom on the field of strife. This 
frightful rmmber, composed of our fellow citizem, is 


annually decimated by death, giving us thirty thousand 
every year for the grave, and its reptile rioters. These 
facts show intemperance to be a broad and burning tide, 
which blasts, scorches, and consumes every thing within 
its fiery sweep, the drift wood upon whose bosom is the 
shattered wreck of three hundred thousand immortals, 
one-tenth of whom are annually lost to themselves, to 
their families, to their country, and we fear, to heaven 
fur ever. 

Curing human ills is a benevolent work, and 
those who practice it have ever formed the most 
respectable of the three learned professions; but pre- 
venting those ills is a mo)-e benevolent work still, and 
those engaged in it, deserve not only the approval, but 
the hearty co-operation of mankind. Invading the 
territories of an insulting foe, and properly chastising 
him for his insolent aggressions, has ever been con- 
sidered a duty sufficiently patriotic, to embalm the 
hero's name in the hearts of his countrymen ; certainly, 
then, driving out an enemy, who has invaded, not only 
our country, but our very homes, is a duty, not only 
doubly patriotic, but more essentially necessary to our 
peace and prosperity, and, in which every American 
hand, and voice, and hea7-t should be engaged. To 
cure, as well as to prevent, the maladies inflicted by 
intemperance, and to drive it unconditionally from oar 
country, ai'e the objects for which the friends of the 
temperance reformation are toiling, who, when they are 
successful, (and thev u-dl he successful,) v/ill have con- 


ferred blessings on their country, the beneficia! effects 
of which will be felt — - 

"While the earth bears a plant, 
Or the sea rolls a wave." 

II. To man's pecuniary interests intemperance is a 
vice, attended hy the most fatal consequences. The 
sums annually expended by the people of this great 
country, for alcohol, are absolutely alarming. But, 
because they are composed of a small amount from 
each citizen, upon an average, and these small amounts 
are contracted by a little at a time, the magnitude of the 
aggregate waste is not appreciated. Every man ought 
to keep an estimate of his personal, as well as family 
expenditures; and if any, even a moderate dram drinker, 
will do this, he will find, at the end of the year, that an 
amount, the size of which will astonish him, has been 
lost to him and his heirs for ever. No man, who makes 
a regular business of drinking, though he never may 
have been intoxicated, spends less than fifty dollars 
annually, amounting in the course of an ordinary life- 
time, say twenty years for a dram drinker, to one 
thousand dollars ; and one excessively addicted to his 
cups will squander twice this amount. But the ruin 
this vice inflicts in this respect, is not the result of the 
large sums which are lavished for brandy, but habits of 
intemperance are sure to beget habits of inattention to 
business : the farm, the shop, the office, and the store 
are neglected, sikI this nec^lect, combined with extrava- 


gance, completes the ruin, and sends many a son, raised 
in aflluence, a bankrupt to his grave, leaving behind him 
a widowed, heart-broken one, w^ithout a sheltering 
hf)me for her frail form, and his helpless and destitute 
children iiiheritors of the only patrimony ordinarily 
within the gift of such a father, disgrace and his curse. 
But that you rridj Jeel the force of our argument, let us 
piesent the aggregate result of this single evil upon the 
raonied interests of our country. 

It has been fairly estimated, that not less than 100 
million gallons of liquid poison are annually con 
sunied in this country, estimating which, at fifty cents 
per g-jllon to the consumer, (and, upon the average, it 
will cost more,) we have the enormous sum oi fifty 
millions of dollars, expended for the gratification of a 
single appetite in one year. Two hundred thousand 
paupers, made such by intemperance, cost our tax 
paying citizens twenty millions more every year. 

Thirty thousand years of productive human labor 
are lost to us annually by the premature deaths of as 
many of our citizens, which, being estimated at thirty 
cents 'per diem, amount to ilirce millions more. But an 
eminent writer has remarked, the loss of time by the 
livino- drunkard is immense. Ho must have time to 
stagger to the dram shop, to drink, and laugh, and 
swear with his besotted brothers; time to stagger home, 
to doze away a thorough drunken frolick, or to abuse 
those whom it is his duty to ])rotect : in a word, he 
must have time for every thing but his duty; this he 


neglects, and bankruptcy follows. The time thus wasted 
by the poor inebriate, ^and by othei's, such as attendants 
when sick, and officers when he has been guilty of 
injustice to others, may be very reasonably reckoned 
at ten millions annually. Estimating all other losses 
occasioned by the vice, as those resulting from inatten- 
tion, negligence, bad bai'gains, &c., at twenty millions, 
(and they are twice as much) which, being added to the 
other items in the bill, gives us the almost incredible 
sum of one hundred millions of dollars, thrown away 
every year upon our passions, and squandered upon 
one of the most degrading vices that ever visited or 
cursed the world. And when we remember, that we 
are not the proprietors of the money we waste, but only 
stewards under God, and will have to render an 
account to Him for the appropriation of each cent of 
it, not only the impolicy of our course is seen, but its 
exceeding sinfulness. 

iSIan is not only accountable for what he has done, 
but for what he migJit have done, and what might, nr 
rather what might not have been accomplished with this 
hundred millions properly applied 1 The aggregate of 
the waste during the last fifty years, is amply sufficient 
to have richly endowed an University in each of our 
States, which, like so many beacon fires blazing along 
the shore of a dark and treacherous sea, would have 
guided hundreds and thousands of intellectual voyagers 
to the temple and shrine of Minerva, where they would 
have been trained and f]ualified for the struggles that 


awaited them upon the great battle plains of existence, 
but who for want of what we might have supplied, were 
stranded upon the shore and lost. The sum would have 
been quite enough to have established an academv in 
each county oi this nation, which would have afforded 
educational facilities to thousands and tens of thousands 
of our youth, who might have become stars of the first 
magnitude in the heavens of our national glory, but 
who, wanting these facilities, have struggled on in 
darkness, some to graves of infamy, and all to graves 
of obscurity. It would have established and maintained, 
for a part of the poor, at least, a common school in 
every neighborhood, by which the dungeon bars of 
many an imprisoned soul might have been wrenched 
av/ay, and the light of intelligence sent flashing over 
'the faculties of many a prostrate and benighted mind. 
It would have been sufficient to have run canals along 
all our water courses; to have spanned all our streams 
with bridges; to have webbed the bosom of our continent 
with telegraphic lines; to have stretched rail roads from 
the Atlantic to the far off Pacific; to have paid our 
national debt; to have lined our coasts with a fleet, v/hich 
would have been an impregnable bulwark against the 
navies of tyrants in all coming time ; aye, to have lifted 
this land of Washington, like ancient Capernaum, almost 
lo heaven. Nay, more, under the blessing of heaven, this 
sum would have sent the missionary angel around the 
world, to its every home and heart with its message of 
life, pi-eparing man for, and guiding him in ihe sublime 

Mains OF TKMPERAXCE. - 361 

|>ilgrimage of existence to the bosom of God. How 
recreant are we, then, to the sacred trusts confided to our 
keeping, while we squander upon our appetites and 
passions the means which our great Father designed 
should be employed in making men like angels, and 
earth like heaven. Duty to ourselves, an4 justice to 
others, clamor loudly in our ears for the abandon- 
ment of a vice, which, vampire-like, is sucking our 
very life-blood, and endangering our very existence. 

III. But, intemperance is not only fatally injurious 
to man's physical organism, and destructive of his tem- 
poral comforts, but to him., as an mtdlectual being, it is 
accompanied by consequences fatally detrimental to his 
highest and best interests. Its evil effects here, are 
prominently manifest in two particulars — in preventing 
that cultivation and development of mind necessary to 
secure any thing like prominence, or even respecta- 
bility ; and, in striking it down, mid-heaven after it has 
begun its career of usefulness and honor. '• There is 
no royal way to learning," the path of the student, is 
the path of toil. The feeblest functions of the mind 
must be nursed into vigor; its perceptions must be 
quickened and cori-ected, its compass enlarged, and its 
strength of grasp increased. Long training, and close, 
continuous, unwearied application, are indispensable to 
any thing like eminent scholarship. 

The clouds, so wont to gather in the mental sky of 
even the laborious student, to obscure his perceptions, 
danipt'n }n>\ aif'o}-, htkI cxting-uish his hopt^s, must be 


smitten with the magic wand of an iron will, or they will 
gather in closer, darker, heavier folds around it for ever 
But allow the student, while at college, or afterwards, 
in pursuing the study of a profession, to become 
addicted to his cups, to mingle with the bacchanalian 
throng, where the sparkling bowl, the vulgar jest, and 
the profane reheai'sal of some obscene adventure, while 
away his midnight but priceless hours, and the day 
of his destiny is over — the grave stone upon his buried 
hopes is sealed so firmly, that an angel cannot roll it 
away. Because, those indispensables to mental improve- 
ment and greatness, undivided attention, amvle grasp 
of thought, and pointed concentration, will be under- 
mined and destroyed by excess. That matchless 
mainspring of the mental machinery, the unfaltering 
will, loses, at first, its flexibility and power, then its 
very existence, and then the animal triumphs com- 
pletely over the man, and Ichabod is written upon the 
desolate chambers of his soul ; for its glory is gone. 
But if, in defiance of all these obstacles, some splendid 
geniuses have entered the lists of life with such appa' 
rent success, as to lead their friends to hope that the 
brilliancy of their achievements would linger as an 
immortal halo around their names, where is there one, 
in whom hope has found its realization, cme, who has 
not arrived suddenly at the goal of his existence, the 
shattered wreck of all that is great and noble in man 1 
A great mind in ruins is the most melancholy 
gpectacle in the universe of God. The navies of the 


world, stranded upon a wild and rocky shore, where 
the lurid lightning reveals the fearfulness of the catas- 
trophe in floating wrecks, and drowning, 
where death shrieks rise above the roar of the tempest, 
would afford a spectacle of appalling grandeur. A 
great city in ruins, for example, Lisbon, in an earth- 
quake, with her broken arches, and crumblino^ walls, and 
falling towers, and flying population, with thousands 
buried beneath the ruins of their former dv/ellinors, 
presents a scene over which the heart of humanity 
sickens. Moscow, at mid- winter, wrapped in an oc. an 
of flame, whose tossing billows swept the clouds, made 
even the stern heart of Napoleon tremble, and sent a 
paralysis of despair through all his veteran hosts. But 
what are these, to the irreparable ruin of (ynt' temple, 
wh.ose builder is God j of one immortal mind, having 
eternity for its life-time, and immensity for its home ? 

Approach the bier of that unequalled orator S. S. P.: 
or of that pleasing, but melancholy poet, E. A. P., lay 
back the covering from his still brow — 

'•Look on its broken arch, its ruined wall, 
Its chambers desolate and portals fool." 

Look on those glazed and rayless eyes, through which 
the up-roused soul looked out entranced upon the 
sublime and the beautiful, or sent its fire flashing in 
the face of its foe; look on those livid lips, the fiery 
chariot of whose eloquence once wafted thousands to 
heaven; look, and behold a ruin, for which a nation 


might wring its hands and weep : for it is a great mind 
in ruins. 

These," and thousands more, who might have been 
guiding stars to millions on their pilgrimage to 
greatness, became, through habits of intemperance, 
fitful meteors, flashing, for a moment, in the sky, and 
then falling, like Lucifer, from the heaven of their 
glory, to darkness and dishonor, for ever. To our 
young countrymen, we present these mournful examples 
of the destructive influences of intemperance upon 
intellect, and beseech them to avoid the fatal rock upon 
which so many noble barques have been wrecked, 
and around whose base the broken greatness still is 
floating, to warn us of our danger. Remember, intem- 
perance prevents the development of mind ; and, even 
should it not, as the fire destroyed the waxen wing* 
of Daedalus, so this vice destroys the force of intellect, 
and feeble, and aimless, and without success, you will 
live and die without leaving a single foot-print on the 
sands of time. 

IV. But to man, as a moral and accountable creature, 
the indulgence of no vice could be more fatal than that 
of intemperance. Although the doctrine of innate ideas 
has been nearly abandoned, since the days of Mr. Locke, 
the doctrine of innate depravity finds too strong con-^ 
firmation in the history and experience of mankind 
ever to cease to be a prominent tenet in every orthodox 
creed. Our duty, as moral beings, is not to guard 
a pure and unsullied nature ngainst the ietrusion of 


that which would defile it, but to cast out "the strong 
man armed ;" to subdue that proclivity to evil, which, 
by virtue of the very nature we inherit, has its seat in 
the heart. Life is all a warfare ; offensive, to be sure, 
but defensive, first. Than this, a more diflficult, or 
important work, cannot engage the attention of mortals; 
difficult, because it is unnatural — a warfare of man 
against himself; important, because, unless pe»rformed, 
man's whole existence is one great failure. 

This life-time task should engage our attention 
betimes ; for vice, being indigenous to our natures, 
and already deeply rooted there, will, if its removal 
be neglected, soon produce its legitimate fruits — 
corruption and ruin. Virtue, an exotic fi:om the 
genial shores of immortality, when transplanted to 
the bleak and desolate wastes of the human soul, 
like a frail flower amid the glacier heights and eternal 
snows of the Alps, requires so much of attention 
and tenderness to secure, not only its vigorous growth, 
but its very existence, that, if occasional gleams of 
sunshine and soft falling dews come not upon it, firom 
its native heaven, it would wither and die. But, such 
is the capacity of human nature, for good, as well as 
evil, that, by early availing itself of the helps which 
heaven affords, it may secure all those virtues which 
adorn the "spirits of the just made perfect," and 
link it in high and endless companionship with the 
first-bom sons of God. This is the high destiny for 
which it has been made our duty to struggle ; which, 


if we gain, all is gained ; which, if we lose, all is lost 
The chief glory and dignity of man, consists in a 
rigid practice of that high code of Christian morals, 
which will lift him from the dust and darkness of 
time, to the light and fruition of eternity. It is this 
that gives strength, and beauty, and purity, to his 
whole character. This, alone, is true greatness ; and 
by it, i^one, can his highest happiness be secured; 
for its neglect will secure the social, civil, and intel- 
lectual ruin of our race. We have already intimated, 
that, to carry this momentous work to any high degree 
of perfection, it should be entered upon early, and 
persevered in to life's last hour. Anything which 
will divert the attention from it, or increase the 
disinclination already existing, to undertake it, ought 
to be regarded as an implacable foe to man's chief 

That all sensual indulgence is of this character, no 
observing person will deny ; and the particular vice 
under consideration, is more certainly productive of 
these results, than all others; inasmuch, as it not 
only blunts the moral sensibilities, weakens, and 
ultimately destroys the conscience, and perverts and 
bewilders the judgment, but dethrones reason; abso< 
lutely extinguishes the last light that gleams upon the 
sinuous path of probation, and leaves the bewildered 
pilgrim in total darkness, subject to the guidance 
of his appetites, and the mastery of his passions, 
without the power to select, or the inclination to 


Dursue, the path of safety, involved in intricacies, 
and surrounded by dangers, which omniscience alone 
can see, or Omnipotence remove ; shunned by man, 
and abandoned by God, to stumble on to ruin, 
irrevocable, eternal. While man can look into his 
heart, and reflect, there is hope ; but the power of 
doing so, the inebriate has long since immolated 
upon the altar of sensualism ; and the last gentle 
whispers of conscience, as well as the stem clamors 
of remorse, he has strangled in the bowl of intoxi- 
cation; and thus entangled, in the meshes of a net from 
which few escape, he abandons himself to every species 
of crime that can mark or mar the human character, 
or disgrace our nature. Who are they that profane 
the holy Sabbath ; that blaspheme the venerable name 
of God ; that disturb the quiet of our cities, and the 
slumbers of their peaceful citizens, by their midnight 
carousals; that insult female modesty by the rudeness 
and obscenity of their language and manner; and 
that glory in their shame, while participating in guilt, 
the very name of which a modest pen refuses to write '? 
Walk through our villages, towns, and cities, on public 
days, and see about each grog-shop a motley crowd ; 
there, one in rags, sleeps in the mire ; another is 
muttering horrid curses, as if he were conversing 
with devils, in the vernacular of hell ; and another 
raging and cursing, as if he were possessed of a 
legion of infuriated demons. Behold, here, a demon 
stration of the position, that intemperance is a deadly 


foe to morality and social order. Three-fourths of 
the cases occurring in our criminal courts, and a 
large proportion of civil litigation, are the direct 
offspring of this curse of curses. A distinguished 
Judge, in a late charge to the Grand Jury of the 
City and County of Philadelphia, said: "Gentlemen, 
Philadelphia is one vast groggery ; and any one who 
will sit with me, in this criminal court, for two months, 
and hear the sad recitals of crime, arising from the 
excessive use of ardent spirits, will not doubt it," 
With what accumulated eiwplia&is might this be said 
of many of our neighborhoods, villages, and towns ! 
Who, then, can wonder, that inebriates fill our jails 
and penitentiaries, and that nineteen-twentieths of the 
imprisoned criminals of the civilized world, are confined 
for crimes perpetrated when under the influence of 
alcohol % Who does not see, that, just as this monster 
vice prevails, iniquity abounds ? that, just as men 
abandon themselves to its sway, the world approximates 
the character of a vast bedlam ? and that it is only 
necessary that the vice should become universal, and 
the leist star that gilds man's future, will die out in 
darkness ; the last ligament, binding the world, in 
loyalty, to God, will be severed, and light, and joy, 
and hope, will die, and one all-embracing cui"se will 
settle down upon us for evei-. Such a catastrophe 
will certainly follow the universality of the vice ; a 
catastrophe, depriving us of the most treasured boon 
^f existence, and, at the same time, subjecting us to 


the severest calamity which it is in the range of 
humanity to endure, or of heaven to inflict. 

The great deficiency of the age is in morals: the 
gi'eat antagonist of morals is sensualism : and the head 
and front of this is intemperance. It was said by 
an eminent English divine, when Napoleon lost the 
battle of Waterloo, that the clock of the world went 
back six centuries. Let this monster vice be exter- 
minated, and scarcely shall the victor's shout have 
ceased, before that same clock shall indicate an advance 
of a thousand years; but let him survive and continue 
to pour upon the world his flood of evil influence, and, 
at no distant day, there will be scarcely a single Ararat 
upon which the sacred ark of morality can rest. It 
hangs like a night-mare upon the main-spring of the 
world's moral machinery, blunting the force of the blows 
aimed at the castellated walls of vice, while it is the 
strengthening cement of those walls, and the very life 
blood of their defenders. It is the first vice of 
civilization that finds its way to our heathen brethren ; 
and, before our arts have polished, or sciences refined, 
or religion purified one mind among them, the 
pioneering fire water of the white man has its thou- 
sands of victims. 

These things being so, it must follow, as a con- 
sequence, that it is the duty of philanthiopists, political 
economists, moralists, and Christians, to unite their 
utmost energies for the successful Timsecution of this 
world-involvinfT war, that knows but tivo ril^p? natives— 


triumph or ruin. Let the battle cry "Down with the 
monster," ring along the line mustered in defence 
of humanity and its interests, and then 

" Strike ! till the last armed foe expires , 
Strike! for your altars and yonr fires; 
Strike! for the green graves of year eirei; 
6od, and your native land !